


The Summer Series

by sabershadowkat



Series: Short Silly Fics [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 07:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 46,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4555776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabershadowkat/pseuds/sabershadowkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of short silly stories that evolves from friendship to something more.<br/>Post Gingerbread</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I - Hunger

  


  


 

Crying. That was all she was capable of doing at that moment. Oz had decided, on graduation no less, that it wasn’t working out. So here she was, dressed in a flammable polyester graduation gown, holding a mortar with the yellow tassel, sobbing her eyes out. *Yes, Willow Rosenberg, this is your life. Doesn’t it suck?* she thought miserably to herself, rubbing her eyes with the sleeve of the gown.   


She looked up, scanning the dark for any of Sunnydale’s bad guys, then resumed her long walk home from the school. Right now, she didn’t care if she were vampire fodder or not. She only wanted to pain in her heart to go away, or to be able to turn back the clock and delete the kiss with Xander that started the whole mess to begin with.   


"Hello, red," a familiar cocky British voice interrupted her silent musings. "Fancy meeting you here, all alone, with no Slayer to protect you."  


Willow whipped around, tears still streaming down, to come face to face with the cause of her worst nightmare which had come true. "You," she hissed, surprising him with the venom in her voice. "You’re the one who did this to me! You’re the one who’s at fault! I HATE YOU SPIKE!"   


Spike blinked in shock as the red headed witch launched herself at him, fists flying. He tried to grab at her hands to stop the assault on his face, only to be kicked repeatedly in the shins. "Now, you hold on just a minute!" he snapped, his face morphing into that of the demon which inhabited his body. He got a lock on her wrist and twisted her arm, bringing her back up against his chest. She continued to kick back with her heel, which served to infuriate him more. Growling, he pulled up hard on her arm, causing her to scream out in pain and stop moving.   


"It’s all your fault," she whimpered, her arm throbbing almost as much as her head. She began to sob again, Spike’s grip the only thing holding her from falling to the ground in a puddle of misery.   


Confusion addled his brain as he listened to the small girl cry. The tears were not born of fear or pain, but of deep seeded heart break. He felt his own undead heart go out to her as he remembered that feeling not too long ago, when Drusilla had left him for good. Growling again, he shook himself mentally. This girl had attacked him, and no one did that and lived.   


Willow felt her head being tilted, exposing her neck as the tears streamed down her cheeks. *This is it,* she thought. *I am going to be killed by the same vampire that had already killed my heart.* Cool lips closed over her neck and the world went dark.   


  


 

*****

  


  


Hunger. That was all she was capable of feeling at that moment. It felt as though a giant, empty pit were in her stomach, begging to be filled. She heard a door open, then a scent so powerful, as it hit her nostrils, it almost overwhelmed her. Footsteps came closer to where she lay. "Hungry, pet?"   


Willow opened her eyes at the same time she growled. Spike’s blue eyes peered down at her, taking stock in her appearance as she pushed herself to a sitting position. She reached out her hands and snatched her meal from him, leading him to smirk at her.   


Without another thought, she sank her teeth…  


"Careful, they’re hot," Spike warned.   


…into the most delicious cinnamon roll she’d ever tasted.   


  


 

* * *

  


  


 

II - The Cinnamon Conundrum

  


  


Chewing, she gave him a puzzled look as he sat on the edge of the bed, then blurted out the first things that came to her mind. "Why am I still alive? Where am I? And why the heck am I so hungry?" Willow asked around a bite of food.   


Spike chuckled. "Last one first," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed by her feet. "You were probably crying for a bloody long time before I ran into you, right?" She nodded. "Then I went and scared you and you fainted," he continued. "I read somewhere that combination of crying and fainting sometimes leads to a woman awakening very hungry. So, I figured I ought to be prepared."   


"Where’d you read that? Scientific America? AMA Journal?" Willow asked, curiously as she started on a second roll.   


"Um…Ladies Home Journal," he mumbled in response.   


" _You_  read the Ladies Home Journal?!" Willow said unbelievably. He glared at her, and she shut up quickly, ducking her eyes in hopes that he wouldn’t kill her now. Which reminded her… "Why am I still alive?"   


"Wasn’t hungry," Spike shrugged. "Plus, when I got to thinking about it, you could still do that love spell for me."   


Willow’s eyes raised to him. He was looking down at his lap, picking at the black nail polish on his thumb. "But I thought you went back to torture Drusilla into loving you again?"   


"How did you know that…oh, the Slayer," he answered his own question. "Anyway, it didn’t bloody work."   


She frowned. "Are you trying to tell me that after she shunned your obvious devotion to her, you’d take her back?"   


"In a heartbeat," Spike replied immediately.   


"But you’re a vampire. You don’t have a heartbeat." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop him. Horrified, she watched wide eyed as he gave her an odd look.   


"I guess I’ll be waiting a long time, then," he said.   


Willow let out a giggle at his statement, then clamped a hand over her mouth, terrified that now she would be killed. She needn’t have worried. Spike’s laughter filled the small room as he thought of what she had said, the prepostery of the whole situation. "Listen, pet, as soon as the sun sets, I’ll take you home," he said to the hacker.   


"Why did you bring me…wherever we are, to begin with?"   


"Well, I couldn’t just leave you lying there in the middle of the street. All sorts of bad things are out at night," Spike answered, giving her a quirky grin. "I tried taking you to the Slayer’s, but no one was home."   


"They were at the library," Willow said, then sighed. "I wonder if they cared I was gone."   


"Hey, now, none of that," he chided. "I’m bloody depressed enough for the both of us."   


"What do you have to be depressed about?" she asked. He gave her a look. "Oh…um, sorry." She looked down at the nearly empty tin of cinnamon rolls. "I didn’t know you could cook."   


"I can make a few things. Hamburgers, cinnamon rolls," he replied, gesturing to the pan. "Pirogues."   


Willow snorted, then shot him an embarrassed glance as her face reddened. Chuckling, Spike stood and held out his hand. "Come on, let’s go watch some TV until I can take you home."   


Carefully taking his proffered hand, she climbed out of the large bed and followed him down the dark hallway of the house, wondering why she wasn’t peeing in her pants from fear. *Must be because we’re in the same boat,* she thought as they came to a living room with boarded up windows. *The Anti-Love Boat.* She giggled at the thought and he arched an eyebrow at her as he took a seat on the couch, picking up the remote and thumbing it on.   


"You know, I really miss that Kendall lass," Spike commented absently as he landed on a station. "She was a bitch wrapped up in a sweet little package. Reminds me of Buffy."   


Willow turned to him, her eyebrows raised this time. "You watch soap operas, too? Are you sure you’re a bloodsucking killer?" He chuckled as she groaned for not being able to control her words. "You know, I think I’ll just be quiet now."   


"No, don’t," he said swiftly. "It’s been too quiet around here. I could use a spot of company."   


She stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. "You want me to keep you company? Why?"   


"Why not?" Spike said, looking away from the flickering television to face her. Seeing her frown, he continued. "You’ve made me laugh for the first time in weeks, you’ve got the most interesting working mind which leads you to blurt out what you’re thinking, and…well, you’re here."   


"Oh," she replied, then turned her attention to the screen. After a few minutes, she looked over at him. He was scowling at the television. "Spike? I’m sorry. About Drusilla, I mean."   


His eyes flicked to her, judging her sincerity. He gave her a small sad smile. "Thanks, ducks. I’m sorry, too, for whoever hurt your heart."   


"Oz," Willow sighed as the pain started in her heart again, her eyes welling up with tears. "It’s your fault, you know," she stated almost casually. "If you hadn’t of kidnapped me and Xander, we wouldn’t have kissed because of the life or death situation, they wouldn’t have caught us and I’d still have my Oz." She was crying in earnest now.   


Spike shifted on the couch next to her, staring at her with incredulous eyes. "My fault? How can your cheating on your beau be my bloody fault? I didn’t force your lips to that wankers."   


Her cries stopped suddenly as he words sunk in to her brain. *He’s right,* she thought. *I was smooching Xander long before he kidnapped us.* She seemed to deflate before his very eyes. "Love sucks," she mumbled, picking at the last cinnamon roll.   


"That it does, pet," he replied, putting his hand on her leg and squeezing it in a very non-Spike-like gesture.   


Willow smiled slightly, her eyes roaming back to the television. "Who do you think would win in a fight - Buffy or Kendall Hart?"   


His laughter once again filled the room.   


  


 

* * *

  


  


 

## III - When Whimsy Strikes

  


  


"Call me."   


"Give us a bell."   


"How much?"   


"What’s the damage?"   


"Did you say something?"   


"Do what?"   


Willow and Spike were still sitting next to each other on the couch, television long since been turned off, having an impromptu language class. Both were enjoying it immensely.   


"Definitely."   


"Dead cert."   


"Jerk."   


"Git."   


"I’m tired."   


"I’m knackered."   


"Calm down."   


"Don’t get your knickers in a twist."   


Willow snorted at that one, taking a sip of the soda Spike had stashed away in his refrigerator. She glanced at her watch, noting that the sun had set a few minutes before and she needed to go. Even though she really didn’t want to. "One more?"   


"Whatever strikes your fancy, luv," Spike replied.   


"You know, I always wondered what that meant. Strikes your fancy. What’s a fancy and how do you strike it? Or, with what?" Willow said. "Or what about the phrase ‘whatever floats your boat’? A boat can only float on water, so what’s the point?"   


Spike started to laugh so hard, his eyes watered. "Willow, you are a wonder."   


"Is that good?"   


"Dead cert," he replied, shooting her a cocky smile. Willow joined in his laughter, neither one anxious to end their pleasant day.   


  


 

* * *

  


  


 

## IV - E.T. Phone Home

  


  


"Um…Spike?"   


"Yes, luv?" Spike said, looking over to the red head seated next to him on the couch.   


"Do you think…maybe we can…" Willow stumbled over her words, trying to convey the fact that she was enjoying herself and didn’t want their new found friendship to end.   


"Why don’t you ring your mum and the Slayer, then we’ll go out to the pictures?" Spike interrupted, sensing her thoughts, feeling the same way himself.   


Willow’s smile brightened the room. "Really? That would be great!" She bounced up off the couch for the kitchen and the phone. Chuckling, the vampire dug through the newspaper pile for the movie listing. After a few minutes, she came back into the room, plopping back down on the couch.   


"So, did E.T. phone home?" Spike asked, giving her a silly grin.   


Willow giggled with astonishment. "You’ve seen  _E.T._ , too? Are you sure you’re a vampire?"   


"Hmm," he replied, going through great exaggeration to check his pulse. "No pulse. I’m either a vampire, or a really talkative corpse."   


"Well, you’re not blue. Or stiff with rigor mortis," Willow pointed out. "And your skin doesn’t seem to be falling off. Although, I’ve only seen your hands, face and neck. You could be hiding giant holes under the rest of your clothes."   


"Want to find out?" Spike asked, wiggling his brows, his eyes dancing with devilment.   


She blushed bright red, but grinned wickedly at him. "Maybe later."   


  


 

* * *

  


  


 

V - The Art of Smoking

  


  


Walking. Talking. Enjoying the warm night air. These were the things that Willow was thinking about as they made their way to the Sunnydale Theater. To see a movie. With Spike.   


"What are we going to see?" Willow asked, noting that he was shortening his strides to match hers.   


"There’s several pictures starting at the same time," Spike said, searching through his pockets. "I figured we’d choose when we get there." He found his pack of cigarettes and pulled one out.   


Willow watched as he lit it with a black, butane lighter. She saw him inhaled, then exhale the smoke into the night air. "How do you do that?"  


"Do what?"   


"Smoke. You don’t breathe," she replied, her brow knitted in puzzlement.   


He chuckled, loving the strange questions she asked. "I breathe, but I don’t have the oxygen/carbon dioxide exchange."   


She smacked her forehead. "That’s right! Breathing is a mental process, not just a physical one. Your subconscious tells you to inhale and exhale, even though you don’t have to. I should have known that. I took anatomy and physiology."   


"Well, now you know," he said, giving her a quick grin. "And in case you’re wondering, no, I don’t need to use the loo." She laughed and they descended into comfortable silence once more.   


Walking. Talking. Enjoying the warm night air. These were the thing Spike was thinking about as they made their way to Sunnydale Theater. To see a movie. With Willow.   


  


 

* * *

  


  


 

## VI - Coming Attractions

  


  


"What was your favorite part of the movie?" Willow asked as they stepped out into the dark night.   


"The coming attractions," Spike answered dryly. She giggled, unconsciously hooking her arm with his as they began strolling down the street. "Just kidding, pet. I loved the whole kit and kaboodle. Almost as exciting as the seeing original in the theater."   


"You saw  _Star Wars_  when it first came out?" she said excitedly. "That must have been so cool! I went with Xander and Buffy when it was re-released, but by then we’d seen it, like, a billion times on video. But to have been there when it first came out. Wow."   


"Too bad you weren’t born yet, or I would’ve taken you, ducks," he said, smiling over at her. "Dru hated it. The flashing lights from their guns scared her. So did R2 if I recall. Went bloody on and on about the robot being evil, though why that would scare her is beyond me."   


"Maybe she could understand what R2 was saying when he beeped," Willow suggested. "Kinda like listening to a record backwards for the hidden messages."   


Spike chuckled. "Now, that’s a possibility I hadn’t thought of. I wonder what she thought he said…er, beeped."   


"We can always watch them and try to figure it out," she said offhandedly.   


"Good idea, pet. How about tomorrow? Say sevenish?" Spike said, looking anywhere but at the red head.   


"Really?" Willow asked. "I mean, sure! That would be fun."   


"It’s a date then," he replied, trying to hide the excitement he felt that he’d be seeing her again.   


"Yup, a date," she confirmed, trying to hide the excitement she felt that she’d be seeing him again.   


Friendships can be made under the strangest of circumstances. And this one between the human and the vampire was no different.   


  


 

* * *

  


  


 

## VII - Awkward Good-byes

  


  


"Um, well, this is it," Willow said, pointing to her house.   


"I see that," Spike replied, nervously shifting on his feet. He stuck his hands in his pockets, then pulled them out again, before repeating the action once more. "I’ll see you tomorrow, pet?"   


"Yeah," she said, a small, nervous smile hovering on her lips. "At around seven."   


He nodded. "Well…"  


"Yeah, well…"  


"Until then, ducks," Spike said, winking at her and turning to walk down the street.   


"Bye…oh, wait!" Willow called after him. He stopped and faced her. "Are you going to rent the movies or am I?"   


"I’ll get the movies, you make the popcorn," he replied, then gave her a quick grin and continued on his way.   


Willow watched until he was out of sight, then headed for her front door, her mind whirling at the fact that she’d just spent an entire day with Spike. And enjoyed it. Opening her front door, she called out her hellos to her parents, heading for her room. Once there, she collapsed across the bed with a sigh, drifting off to sleep only to awake a moment later with a startling thought.   


"I didn’t know he liked popcorn."   


  


  


  


 

* * *

  


  


##  VIII - Hollywood Video

  


  


Spike opened the door to the brightly lit video store and walked inside. Movies playing on the televisions mounted on the walls assaulted him, along with a multitude of people all out to rent the perfect video.   


"Bloody terrific," he mumbled, heading for the counter where the applications for automatic membership cards were piled. He leaned over the edge and snagged a pen, then began to awkwardly fill it out. Not only was he left handed, he didn't have the opportunity to write that often and he was out of practice.   


"Name: Last, First, MI," he read quietly out loud. Frowning, as quickly as he could he scanned the identification required to get a card and was relieved to note it was only a major credit card. He had one of those with his real name on it, as opposed to the driver's license he'd stolen from some guy who looked like him. Relieved that his night with a certain red head was not going to be ruined because he couldn't rent the movies, he continued. "Smith, William B. Address...um, hmm. What was my bloody address again?"   


His brow furrowed as he tried to remember the number. Finally, he scribbled it in as well as the phone number. "Social Sec-Security Number. Don't have one of those," he said to himself as he went on. "Birthday. August 21, 1796. Employer. Don't have one of those either. Maybe I should put self-employed killer?"   


Chuckling to himself, Spike went on. "Other names to put on the ac-ac-count. The Slayer bloody killed all my minions, so it would be a waste to put them on here, the stupid wankers." His face brightened who he could put. "Willow Rosenberg."   


"Do you want a re-restriction placed on Rated R movies for any other names on the a-account? No. Do you want mul-ti-ple cards? Yes. Sign here," he mumbled as he read the words slowly. Signing his name, he recapped the pen and tossed it back over the counter, then looked around for someone to give the application to.   


A bubbly teenager bounced up to him, clothed in the video store's trademark white shirt and bow tie. "Hi! All set? I just need your credit card."   


"Here," Spike said, handing her the application and his card.   


"It'll be a few minutes. Go ahead and get your movies," she told him.   


Spike nodded then headed further into the store, searching for the Sci-fi aisle. When he passed the Action/Adventure section, he could have sworn he saw two guys going at it right on the floor. Shaking his head, he found the row he was looking for. " _Aliens, Bladerunner, Dune, The Guyver, Mad Max, Solarbabies,_ " he said as he went down the aisle, recognizing the movies from the video covers. He smiled triumphantly. " _Star Wars, Empire_  and  _Jedi._ Clever how they put them all together like this."   


He pulled the video out from behind the first one, then the second, but the third was empty. "Where's the bloody picture?" Spike growled, looking behind the other nearby videos. Scowling, he went to the front to complain, when he saw a long row of recently returned videos.   


Spike stood next to the row, head tilted sideways as he read slowly down the titles. *If it's not here, I'm going to eat every bleedin' one of you in the store,* he thought as he neared the end. But the patrons got lucky. "Figures," he said as he added the very last video to his pile.   


Moving to stand in the long check out line, he shifted on his feet and let his mind wander to the red headed hacker. He couldn't believe how excited he actually felt to be seeing her again, not to kill her, but to be in her company. He liked the way she repeated things when she was nervous, and they way she asked strange questions out of the blue. She also had a sense of humor that was as dry and subtle as his own. His lips quirked in memory of something she'd said as he moved forward in the line.   


"I had asked Xander to help me in the library and he asked if I was serious," Willow had said. "And I told him 'no, it was a joke.'" She had had no inflection in her voice, just saying it like any other sentence. He had laughed after she'd told him, adding that her oldest friend was still oblivious to her humor.   


Spike moved forward again, this time frowning as he thought of Xander. He really didn't like that whelp, ignoring Willow's love for him, then after she had moved on, became attracted to her. He'd really like to torture the boy for that. Maybe her ex-boyfriend, Oz, too, for breaking her heart.   


"Hi! You all set? There was one mistake on your application, but I fixed it for you. You mistakenly put 1796 for your birthday instead of 1976, but that’s ok, people get numbers mixed up all the time," the same bubbly girl who had helped him before interrupted his musings. He put the videos on the counter. She scanned his new card, the gave it, the duplicate and his credit card to him. "$9.26," she said. He gave her a crumpled up ten from the depths of his pockets, then accepted the change. "Thank you! Come again!"   


Taking the videos once he got past the electronic security device, he pushed open the first door to head outside. In the small entry way before the second door were several quarter machines of candy or small prizes. With a grin, he dug out the two quarters he'd just received.   


Prizes in hand, he practically bounced out the door and down the street towards Willow's house.   


He had a date.   


  


 

* * *

  


  


 

IX - The Search for Popcorn

  


  


"Popcorn, popcorn, popcorn, popcorn, popcorn," Willow repeated over and over as she searched the cabinets. "Where’s the bloody popcorn!" Realizing what she just shouted, she giggled. *Great, spend a day with a guy and end up sounding like him,* she thought, shutting yet another cabinet door.   


With a big sigh, she opened the last cabinet and began to search through it, letting her mind wander. She had had so much fun with Spike yesterday. Granted, it started out badly, what with him going to kill her, but it ended up a lot of fun. *Maybe I’ll try to get killed more often,* she thought with dry humor.   


Spike was such an interesting character. He’d seen so much, done so much, experienced so much. And she loved listening to him talk, not only because of his sexy accent, although that was a yummy part, but because he was a gifted storyteller. She almost felt like she was there. Snapping out of her musings, she hopped off the counter with a swear, slamming the cabinet door. "Great. Now what?"   


Pacing, she wracked her brain. "I could call Buffy. Or Xander. Or Oz. No, not Oz, the lout. And Xander would want to eat it with me and Buffy would ask too many questions. Giles. I could call Giles," she said out loud, heading for the phone. She dialed his number quickly.   


"Hello?"   


"Giles, it’s Willow," Willow said into the receiver.   


"Are you alright?" Giles asked, concerned. "You left so-so suddenly on Saturday."   


"I’m fine. Well, I’m not fine, I have a problem," Willow said.   


"Anything I can do to-to ah, help?"   


"Popcorn."   


"What?"   


"I need popcorn. Microwavable. With butter," Willow said in a rush. "But I don’t have a car. And it’s too far to walk. And it’s night. And I need popcorn. Tonight. Now."   


"Would you like to go to the grocers and get popcorn?" Giles asked calmly.   


"Please?"   


"Very well, I shall swing by to pick you up in fifteen minutes," Giles said.   


"Thanks," Willow replied hanging up the phone and slumping against the wall. She looked at the clock, thankful that she had an hour before Spike was due to arrive, then headed for her room to put her shoes on and grab some money.   


Giles arrived fifteen minutes later on the dot. "Hello, Willow. Ready to go?"   


"Yeah," she said, shutting the front door. "Thanks a lot, Giles. I  _really_  needed to get this popcorn."   


"Any particular reason?" Giles asked as they pulled out of her driveway.   


"I have a friend coming over to watch movies," she replied, staring at her reflection in the glass. *Hmm, I wonder how he brushes his hair without a reflection,* she thought. *Or shaves for that matter. Angel never did answer me about that.* Suddenly, she realized Giles was asking her a question. "I’m sorry, what?"   


"I asked who your friend was," Giles repeated.   


"Oh, just someone I ran into the other night," Willow said truthfully. "No one for you to worry about me." *I know he won’t hurt me, but I can’t say that about anyone else,* she finished silently.   


They arrived at the store and the two went inside, heading directly for the popcorn aisle. "Pop Secret, Jiffy Pop, Micro Magic, Generic," she read out loud. "Here it is! Orville Reddenbacher’s Movie Time." She grabbed a bright yellow box off the shelf, grinning like mad.   


"Is that it?" Giles asked politely. "Do you need any…er, beverages?"   


"Nope, just the popcorn," she answered happily clutching her prize as they went to the ten items or less check out lane. The cashier rang her up and Giles winced at the price. "C’mon, Giles."   


Willow waved from her front porch as Giles drove away in his old Citroen, then went inside. She glanced at the same wall clock as earlier and shrieked. "Eep! I only have ten minutes!"   


Rushing, she ripped open the box, the individually wrapped bags of popcorn flying all over the kitchen. Grabbing one, she ripped the plastic off and shoved it in the microwave, hitting the correct button. Then, she picked up the other packages, throwing them on the kitchen table before pulling out a chair to get a large bowl from above the refrigerator.   


The microwave dinged, and she retrieved the bag. "Ow! Hot, hot, hot." Tossing the bag in the bowl, she plopped another one in the microwave, then set about opening the freshly popped one. She crumpled the empty, throwing it in the garbage can, then absently wiped her buttery hands on her pants. Her eyes widened when she realized what she’d just done.   


With another squeak, she ran to her room, yanking open drawers to find another pair of comfy jeans. She hopped on one foot, then the other, pulling the new pair on. She heard the microwave ding again, then ran back down the hall to repeat her actions with the hot bag, this time not wiping her hands on her pants.   


She picked up the full bowl and brought it to the living room, setting it down on the coffee table. Returning to the kitchen, she grabbed a couple of sodas, napkins and the salt, and brought them to the other room as well. She retrieved both remotes and put them with the food, smiling in satisfaction. Taking a deep breath, she let it out in a slow, nervous sigh just as the doorbell rang.   


She had a date.   


  


 

* * *

  


  


  
X - Hi

##    


  


## 

 

## 

*Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god,* Willow thought, tucking her hair behind her ears, then changing her mind and pulling it free. She nervously wiped her hands on her pants then grasped the doorknob.   


*Bloody hell, I feel like I’m going to heave,* Spike thought on the other side of the Rosenberg’s front door as he waited for it to be opened. He nervously stuck his free hand in his pocket and fingered the two plastic eggs from the vending machine. As the door started to open, all of his instincts were screaming ‘RUN!’   


"Hi!" Willow said brightly, overly huge smile on her face.   


"Hello, pet," Spike greeted, his own lips curling into a smile. He held up the videos. "Got the pictures."   


"Good," she replied. "It would be hard to watch the movies if we didn’t have them."   


"That it would, luv," he nodded. "Are you going to invite me in?"   


"Yes," Willow said, tucking her hair behind her ears again. "But if you kill me, I’ll be really mad."   


Spike laughed. "I’d imagine you would be."   


"Ok. As long as we’re clear. No killing of anything in this house. Especially my fish," she said, frowning at him.   


"Why would I kill your fish?" he asked, confused.   


"Well, Angel did. When he was bad," she told him. "Strung them up like Christmas lights. Not that I’ve had experience stringing up Christmas lights. I’m Jewish. Oh! You’re still outside."   


"That I am, pet," Spike replied with a wry grin.   


"Well, come in," Willow said, making a grand gesture with her arm. "R2-D2 transliteration class is about to begin."   


  


 

* * *

  


  


 

## XI - Robot Moms

  


  


"See! He swore at C-3PO," she said, motioning at the television. They were both sitting on the couch, barely half a foot between them, sharing the bowl of fluffy, buttery microwave popcorn. "I wonder how his mom washed his mouth out with soap."   


Spike snorted, almost spitting soda out of his mouth. "I don’t think they have mouths, ducks," he finally said. "Or mums."   


"Well, somebody had to make them and teach them how to be good robots," Willow said using Willow-logic. "So technically, they had moms, then."   


"Well, when you put it that way…" Spike said seriously, before breaking out into laughter again. "Cor, luv, I’ve never laughed so much in all my years of existence. And we’re only on the first picture!"   


She grinned happily at him. "I’m having fun, too." She looked back over at the television. "Ut-oh, now he’s gonna get it."   


Spike studied her for a moment, a small smile on his face. *Whoever would have thought humans could be so much fun?* he thought, grabbing another handful of popcorn before returning his attention to the movie.   


Willow glanced over at him as she took another handful of popcorn. *Who’d of thought vampires could be so much fun to be with?* she thought, giving him a quirky smile as he caught her eye.   


Happily, they both turned back to the movie.   


  


 

* * *

  


  


 

XII - Picture Number Two

  


  


"Why don’t you put another bag of popcorn in the microwave while I…uh, go in the other room," Willow said, blushing faintly.   


Spike smiled at her, surprised she made it through the first movie without a bathroom break, what with all the soda she consumed. "Alright, pet," he replied, standing and taking the bowl to the kitchen.   


Humming the main theme under his breath, he picked up a plastic wrapped bag from the kitchen table. He removed the plastic, then looked at the back of the package, frowning. "This side up," he read out loud. He let his eyes scan the back until he found a number. "Two to three minutes," he said, opening the microwave door and setting the package inside. He hit the correct combination of buttons, and the microwave sprang to life.   


Willow came into the kitchen, grinning happily at him, and went to the refrigerator to retrieve more sodas. "When you hear the popping start to slow down, take it out," she told him before heading back to the living room to set up the next movie.   


  


Spike waited as told, then took the freshly made popcorn back into the other room, rejoining the red head on the couch. "Ready for picture number two?"   


"Yup," she replied, with a shake of her head. She hit play on the remote, then settled back on the couch, grabbing a handful of popcorn and stuffing it in her mouth.   


The familiar Twentieth Century Fox music started, leading into the John Williams theme. Willow bounced a little in her seat, and Spike looked over at her for a second with a grin on his face. Turning back to the television, the peroxide blond vampire looked at the words splayed across the screen. Having seen it so many times, he wasn't really reading it, just skimming them as they quickly rolled across the screen, using his memory to fill in the blanks. "Episode V, The Empire Strikes Back. It is a dark time for the Rebels. The Death Star has been destined and Imperial troops have drove the Rebel forces from their hidden base and then across the galaxy."   


Willow turned her head as she heard Spike reading the words on the screen in a quiet voice. She wouldn't have even noticed if she hadn't have been reading along in her mind. Glancing over at him, she concentrated on his voice as he continued.   


"Avoiding the Imperial Star Fleet, a group of freedom fighters led by Luke has a new secret base on the remote ice world of Hoth."   


*That's not what it says,* she thought, frowning.   


"The evil Darth Vader wants to find Skywalker destroyed remote probes into the far reaches of space."   


*Ok, that was not really that close,* she though, as the movie began. Filing her questions away for later, she turned her attention back to the television screen.   


  


 

* * *

  


 

XIII - For Future Use

  


  


Spike looked over at Willow as she bounced up and down on the couch with a raised brow. "Willow?"   


"This is my favorite part coming up," she told him, gesturing to the screen.   


"Of the movie?"   


"Of all three."   


Spike turned his head back to the television, intent on memorizing the scene that made one young woman bounce on the couch in excitement for future use. He could hear her saying the lines along with the movie, then sighed romantically when the part ended.   


"I just love that part," she confessed, leaning back on the couch.   


  


 

* * *

  


 

XIV - No-Bake Cake Mix

  


  


"Here," Willow said, tossing Spike a box from the cabinet.   


The vampire caught it in his deft hands and looked at it. "We're going to make this?"   


"Yup," the red head said, moving to another cabinet. "Ten minutes and boom - instant chocolate moose cake. Tell me what I need."   


Spike turned the bright red box over and looked at the small writing on the back with a frown. "Why don't you read it and I'll get the stuff."  


"'Cuz you don't know where anything is, silly," Willow said, looking over her shoulder at him as she took a mixing bowl and whisk out.   


"Well, if you're going to use logic on me…"   


Willow laughed brightly and his face lit up in its own smile, before turning back to a frown as he concentrated on the words. "Ok. You need one cup water, two eggs, one cup veg-veg-tible o-y- l."  


She cocked her head as he stumbled over the words. "Water, eggs, vegetable oil. Anything else?"   


Spike blew out an un-needed, exasperated breath. "Give me a minute," he said angrily, gripping the sides of the package hard enough to bend the cardboard.   


Willow went about the stuff together, waiting patiently for him to continue, her mind working on the puzzle that started with the second movie. *He has a reading disorder,* she thought to herself. *Or he never took the time to really learn, but that can't be true seeing as how he's read the Ladies Home Journal.*   


"This mix," Spike said, tearing open the top so roughly the inside package was torn. No-bake cake mix flew up in the air, landing on the floor, the table and a pissed off vampire.   


Willow covered her mouth with her hand, trying to smother her giggle. When he glared at her, his face and hair full of chocolate powder, she let it out, clutching her sides in laughter.   


"You think that's funny, pet?" Spike asked with a menacing tone.   


She wiped the tears from her eyes. "If only you could see yourself," she got out. "Your no longer a blond." This sent her into more laughter.   


The vampire rubbed his hand over his hair, brushing the powder off. It showered down to the floor around him, making the red headed hacker fall to the floor in a fit of giggles. He stared at her for a moment, angry that she was laughing at him, until the perfect revenge was practically in his hands. With two steps, he was standing over her. "Oh, Willow?"   


Willow looked up at him, her face a combination of laughter and fear at his tone. "Wh-what?"   


"This," Spike said, dumping the open box right over her.   


She screeched, covering her face with her arms, laughter emanating from her prone form. She kicked her feet out as Buffy had taught her, intertwining with his legs and knocking him to the floor with a loud thud. Giggling, Willow pushed to her knees and grabbed an egg off the counter, sending it flying at his chest. It landed smack in the middle of his black T-shirt, gooey clear and orange parts smearing all over.   


Spike growled with a smile on his face and lunged, grabbing the second egg off the counter and mashing it on top of her head, then massaged it in. "Witch," he said, as she struggled to upend the cup of oil onto him.   


"And proud of it," Willow replied, getting most of the contents of the measuring cup down his shirt, the rest on herself.   


He stood quickly and turned on the sink. With a smirk, he grabbed the hose and sent a stream of water at her. She squealed when the cold water hit her face and body, extending her hands out in an attempts to block the stream. Looking over her shoulder for ammunition, she spun so her back was facing him, whipping open the refrigerator door and latching on to the first thing in reach. More eggs.   


Spike raised his knee up protectively as she started whipping the eggs at him, her face turned from the water. He quickly dropped the hose and went after her, grabbing both wrists and holding them above her head. She let go of the two eggs and they fell directly on both of his shoes, landing with a loud splat. He looked down, then back up into her dirty, chocolate streaked, wet face. "That wasn't very nice, kitten."   


She shrugged, which looked comical to him, seeing as he held her arms above her head. She turned her head to the refrigerator and concentrated. Soon, an egg came flying out on its own and smacked him in the side of the head.   


"Hey!" Spike exclaimed, surprised. He moved his grip to pin both her wrists in one hand, then used the other to hold her chin. "None of that tricky magick."   


"You're no fun," Willow said, sticking out her lower lip in a fake pout. He started to chuckle, then laugh as the situation they were in hit him. "What 's so funny?"   


"We just had a food fight in your kitchen, ducks," Spike replied, letting go of her wrists and stepping back. "I've never been in a food fight before, seeing as it's hard to throw humans around."   


"Um…ew," Willow said, wrinkling her nose. Then she tried to picture a bunch of vampires' throwing people back and forth across a cafeteria, and the laughter hit her again. "Oh, goddess, that would be so funny to see."   


"Well, if you're nice to me, I'll arrange it for you sometime," Spike said with a lopsided grin. He looked around at the mess in the kitchen. "I guess we won't be having that chocolate cake after all, luv."


	2. Chapter 2

XV - You Look...Different

  


 

"Why don't you go wash up first," Spike suggested, looking around at the mess in the kitchen. "And I'll start cleaning up in here." 

"Ok," Willow replied, gingerly stepping over the broken eggs on the floor. She gave him a quick smile at the doorway, then headed down the hall to her room. 

Spike chuckled as began to clean up. Their impromptu food fight the most spontaneous thing he'd done in ages, especially with someone he had started off wanting to kill. Now, all he wanted to do was hear her laugh. 

He loved her laugh. It was light, airy, with a tinge of self-consciousness, as if she felt she shouldn't be allowed to let her mirth bubble forth between her soft, pink lips. Her eyes would light up with merriment at the same time, showing the depth of her amusement and joy. 

Spike was so introspective he didn't hear Willow return to the kitchen until she giggled. "You have a brown handprint on your back," she explained, her lips curved up in a smile. 

"And I bet it is in the shape of a Willow-hand," he replied, grinning back at her. 

She giggled again, nodding her head. "I…uh, left some clothes in the bathroom for you. They're Xander's emergency clothing, in case he had to stay here for whatever reason," she said, moving into the kitchen. 

"Thanks, pet," Spike said, pushing to his feet. He tossed the dirty paper towel in the trash, then headed out of the kitchen.

Willow's face broke into another smile, and she began to hum the main theme as she cleaned. She was still amazed that Spike was so much fun to be with, whether sitting and watching the movie, talking or getting in a food fight in her kitchen. 

And he had such an infectious laugh, deep and rich. He held nothing back when he laughed, his blue eyes dancing with mirth, his pale lips stretching into a smile over his blunt, white teeth. 

She turned when she heard him come back into the kitchen, his hair wet, his body clothed in Xander's black sweats and dark green, long sleeve T-shirt. "Wow, you look…different." 

"Than what?" Spike asked, moving to help her. 

"I've only seen you in that one set of clothes," she replied. "In fact, I thought you only owned one set of clothes." 

"I'll have you know I have lots of clothes," he said defensively. "It's not my fault they're all the same." 

"Then who's fault is it?" Willow asked innocently. 

"Ok, fine, it's my bloody fault," Spike grumbled. "I was the one who stole the boxes." 

"Well, maybe one night we'll go out and get you something else to wear," she said, tossing another paper towel in the garbage. "Then you can choose between two colors." 

"Cute, ducks. Very cute," he replied, examining their effort. "If you're nice to me, I might just take you up on that offer." 

"And how nice do you want me to be?" Willow asked devilishly. Spike's mouth dropped open and she giggled. "Come on, we still have one more movie to go and if we don't start now, you won't be able to see the end of it." She gave him a wink, then left the kitchen. 

Spike stood there until he heard the familiar music start up. Then, with a grin playing on his lips, he practically bounced out of the kitchen. 

 

 

* * *

  


 

XVI - Branding

  


 

Spike held out his fists, waiting for Willow to pick one. They had just finished the third movie and were making sure everything was cleaned before he had to leave. 

"This one," Willow said, tapping his left fist. 

He set the plastic egg in his right hand down on the counter and opened the left one. "Turn around," he instructed, grinning. 

Willow turned without hesitation, the squealed when he moved the collar of her shirt and licked the side of her neck. She went to wipe it off, but he clamped his hand over the spot. "What are you doing?" 

Spike chuckled. "Branding you." 

"What?!" 

"In a second, pet," he said, peeling back the paper. "Go take a look see." 

She gave him a puzzled glance, then left the kitchen. When she looked in the bathroom mirror, she laughed in delight. On her neck was a temporary tattoo of a cartoon red devil. She was still giggling when she returned to the kitchen. 

"Like it?" Spike asked. 

"Uh-huh," she replied, snatching the other plastic egg off the counter. She opened it and pulled out another temporary tattoo, then eyed him lavishly. "Take off your shirt." 

Spike arched an eyebrow at her request. "Do what?" 

"Off," she answered, gesturing like a queen. 

"If you wanted to see me naked," Spike said as he pulled the dark green shirt over his head. "All you had to do was ask." 

His mouth dropped open when she eyed him like a piece of chocolate, licking her lips. She slowly walked over to him, then ran her fingers over his muscles, starting from his navel and meandering slowly up. "Um...Willow?" he gulped. 

She looked up, winked at him, then licked his chest and smacked the tattoo on him. 

Spike let out a startled yelp, causing her to burst into giggles. He glared down at her, but couldn't hold it as his face broke out in a smile. "You really had me there, luv. Pure seductress." 

Willow blushed, but was still laughing as she peeled the paper back. "Perfect," she declared, stepping back from him. 

He dropped his chin to see it and chuckled. It was little boy angel, minus the wings but including the halo. And he had blond hair. "Absotively posolutely," he replied. 

Her eyes widened at his words. Willow's response should be "You've seen  _Oliver and Company_ , too?" 

Spike shrugged, sliding the borrowed shirt back over his head. "Hasn't everyone?" He took a glance out the kitchen window, then frowned. "I have to get going, ducks." 

"Oh," Willow said, disappointingly as she followed him out of the kitchen. 

He slid on his duster. "Do you want me to take the pictures back?" 

"Nah," she replied. "I'll do it." 

"I do need my clothes," he pointed out as he stood by the front door. 

"Why don't I wash them for you and you can pick them up tomorrow?" Willow suggested. "It's my fault they got all dirty. But you really do need to get more clothes." 

"Then you'll just have to take me clothes shopping," Spike replied. "I'm liable to come back with another bloody box full of the same stuff." 

Willow laughed. "It's a date." 

Spike's lips curved into a slow smile. "Yeah. A date." 

"I guess you'd better go," she said. "I don't want to have to vacuum vampire off my front step." 

"Clogs your runner, anyway," he teased, opening the door. "I'll see you tomorrow night?" 

"Right. Seven o'clock, on the nose." 

Spike reached out and tapped her nose. "Got it." He put one hand in his pocked as he turned to go. "Oh, wait. I almost forgot," he said, pulling out a laminated card. "This is for you." 

Willow took it and grinned. "A Hollywood Video card! I've never had a rental card before," she said excitedly. 

"Well, they said I could put anyone on the card, and I couldn't put any of my minions, because the Slayer killed them off, and if I made more, she'd kill them, and I'd be constantly changing the names. Then I thought of you and figured why not?" Spike rambled. "If we ever did this again, you'd be able to get the pictures during the day if you wanted, or anytime that you want to rent one..." 

"Spike," Willow interrupted. "Thank you." 

He sent her a killer smile. "You're welcome, luv. See you tomorrow...er, tonight. At seven." 

"On the nose," she said, tapping her finger on her nose. He laughed, turned and walked off into the fading night. 

 

 

* * *

  


 

XVII - I Licked Him

  


 

Willow groaned when the phone rang near her ear. "We don't want any," she mumbled into the receiver after she picked it up. 

"Hey, Will!" Buffy's bright voice came over the line. "What's up?" 

"Not me," she grumbled. 

"Willow, it's one in the afternoon," Buffy said. "You're usually up by eight, even on a day off. But now, we have lots of days off, because we graduated!" 

"Buffy, I was up all night last night," Willow said. 

"On the computer?" 

"No," she replied, smiling at the pleasant memories. "Watching movies." 

"And you didn't invite me?" Buffy said with a pouty voice. 

"Well, it was kind of a...a date," she stammered. 

"A date! You had a date and didn't tell me! I'll be right over!" 

"Buffy, no-" Willow was cut off as Buffy hung up on her. Sighing, she put down the receiver and climbed out of bed, heading for the bathroom. She groaned at her reflection in the mirror, then started to giggle when she saw the tattoo peeking up from under the collar of her sleepshirt. "I'm a little devil, ain't I?" she asked her reflection. Her reflection grinned back. 

She had just finished getting dressed when the doorbell rang. "Hey, Buffy," she greeted, letting her best friend in. 

"So, dish," Buffy said immediately. "Who's the guy? What did you watch? Is he a hottie? Did you get smoochies?" 

"Just a surprisingly nice guy," Willow replied. "We watched the Star Wars trilogy. He's a hottie in a naughty sort of way, and no, I didn't get smoochies. It wasn't that kind of date. It was more of a...friendship date." She smiled mischievously. "But I did lick him." 

"Willow!" Buffy exclaimed, her mouth dropping open. "Tell me from the second you opened the door to the second he left." 

Willow shut the door to her bedroom and flopped on the bed. Buffy perched on the end, bouncing slightly in excitement. "We said hi, he came in, we watched the first movie, he made more popcorn, we watched the second movie, we tried to make a No-Bake cake but got in a food fight instead...oh! I have to put in the laundry," she suddenly said, bounding off the bed and out the door. 

Buffy chuckled and followed. "Then what." 

Willow picked up her dirty clothes first and shoved them in the wash after checking the pockets of her jeans. "Cleaned up. The kitchen was really messy. Then we watched the third movie. Then I got branded," she said, pulling her shirt to show Buffy the temporary tattoo. 

Buffy arched her brow. "A devil?" 

"It was a fifty-fifty chance. I could have got the angel," she replied, then giggled at the brown hand print on the back of the black shirt she picked up. She threw it in the machine, then picked up the jeans. "That's why I licked him - to put on the tattoo. You should have seen his face! He was so surprised. I was so surprised I actually did it!" 

"You go, girl," Buffy said. "Does this mystery guy have a name?"

Willow pulled a handful of change out of one pocket of his jeans, setting it on the counter, then dug into the second one. "Er..." She didn't know what to say as she took a wallet out of the pocket. "Billy," she said finally, throwing the jeans in the wash and turning it on. She picked up the wallet and change.

"Did he go to Sunnydale High?" Buffy asked. 

"No," she replied. "He's older." *Much older, like Angel,* she thought and had to stop herself from giggling. 

"So, when are you going to see him again?" 

"Tonight," Willow answered. "We're going shopping."

"Do you want me to do a demon test on him for you?" Buffy asked. 

"No!" Willow said loudly. "I mean, I already did one. He passed." *Yup, he's a demon,* she thought, then had to hold back another laugh. 

Buffy looked at the clock and groaned. "Ugh. I have to go meet Giles for a fun afternoon of training. Wanna come and keep me company?" 

"I think I'll stay home and try to get some more sleep," she replied. 

"Ok. But you have got to call me tomorrow and tell me all about your date." 

"Buffy, we're just friends," Willow insisted. 

"Give it time, Wills," Buffy said. "Just give it time." 

 

* * *

  


 

XVIII - Snooping

  


 

"Hmm," Willow said as she returned to her room after seeing Buffy out, wallet and change still in hand. "Vampires carry wallets. Well, why shouldn't they? They need a place to put their stuff, just like humans. And you're talking to yourself, Willow." 

Chuckling, she put the wallet and change on the bed and went to get something to eat. But the black object sitting innocently in her room was beckoning to her, taunting her. "Well, I can always let him go through my purse. If I carried one, that is."

She unfolded the simple leather. There were slit pockets on both sides, a picture holder and the main bill holder. "I hope curiosity doesn't kill this cat," she said, deciding where to start first. She pulled out a handful of faded, multicolored bills and leafed through them. "Marks, yen, pounds...wow, 1879."

Willow set the put the bills back, then started through the cards. "Ooh, drivers licence. Hey, this isn't Spike," she frowned, reading the information on the California ID. "Naughty, naughty vampire. Stealing people's licenses." 

She set the license aside, then flipped through the other cards. "Visa, MasterCard, American Express, Discover, Hollywood Video Card, Lucasfilm Fan Club Card," she giggled. "Sunnydale Library Card, Los Angeles County #258 Library Card, Fishing License...Fishing Licence?" 

Willow shook her head. "Spike, you are really weird," she said, putting all the cards back into place. The picture holder was the last part of the wallet and she was surprised at the items set between the plastic. 

The first looked to be a very old ticket stub. She held the plastic closer to the light and read the worn paper. "This is for the first movie ever shown! Wow," she said, awed. The second was just as interesting - a faded photo of a 1898 Mercedes, the first automobile invented with a hand written sign propped up on the front bumper that read ‘Spike's auto' in German. 

The next three held more ticket stubs - one for a concert, one for an art show and one for the movie they'd seen a few days before. Her lips curved into a large smile when she saw that. She looked up at the mirror above her dresser and saw the matching stub tucked under the edge. Laughing in delight, she turned to the last pocket. 

A tiny, perfect violet sat pressed between the plastic. It still held its vibrant purple color as if it were just picked. Willow felt her heart fill with a sweeping tenderness that he would keep something as simple as this flower. 

Sighing, she closed the wallet and held it to her chest. The monster in her closet was turning into nothing scarier than a kitten. 

 

 

* * *

  


 

XIX - Waiting

  


 

Spike stared up at the ceiling as he tossed a baseball he'd found up in the air, catching it on its descent with deft hands without looking. By all regards he should be sleeping, but his thoughts wouldn't let him. Thoughts about a certain red head with the luminous green eyes and the inquisitive mind. 

He hadn't enjoyed anyone's company like he did hers in over a century, not since before Angelus was cursed. As much as he loved Drusilla, there was only so much crazy talk he could stand. He had turned Dalton for that very reason, wanting to be able to have intelligent conversations. Plus, the bookish vampire knew how to summarize novels relatively well. But then the Judge had him for an appetizer, and he'd ended up stuck with Angelus again. "Bloody wanker," he muttered, giving the ball a harder toss. It hit the ceiling with a thunk. 

Turning his thoughts away from his infuriating sire, he let his mind picture Willow's beguiling smile, the way her mouth curved slightly at the edges when some little thing amused her. Or the way two frown lines would appear between above her nose when something puzzled her. Spike grinned as he pictured the way she tucked and untucked her hair from behind her ears when she was nervous, and the way she arched one delicate brow when she thought he said something ridiculous. 

And of course, around her, almost every other thing out of his mouth was ridiculous. He liked her, and for some reason that made him act very non-Spike-like. Sure, he enjoyed a lot of things humans had to offer, but he was still a hard, unforgiving bastard who had little patience for them unless they possessed something he wanted. With Willow, however, he wanted nothing more than to be in her company. Which he would be...Spike looked over at the clock...in another six hours and thirty-seven minutes. 

With a frustrated sigh, he let the ball drop to the bed and grabbed a magazine from the night stand. A bit of light reading ought to knock him right out. "Terr-an-s Malick is standing at the top of Dancer, one of the hills nested in the moun-mountans of the Da-in tree Rainforest. Oh, Daintree Rainforest. Right, wherever the bloody hell that is...." 

 

 

* * *

  


 

XX - Shoes on Feet

  


 

"Hi!" Willow said excitedly as she opened the door. "Seven o'clock." 

"On the nose," Spike finished, tapping her nose with each word. 

She grinned. "Come on in. I just have to put my shoes on, then we can go," she said, stepping back to let the blond vampire pass. She tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled up at him as he stood in the entryway. 

"Um, luv?" Spike said. "Shoes?"

"Shoes?" Willow asked, puzzled. "Oh, shoes! Right. Can't go shopping in my socks. Be right back." 

Spike chuckled as she hurried down the hallway. He saw the pile of his now clean clothing sitting on the arm of the couch with his wallet and a handful of change on top. He picked both up and tucked them in his pocket as Willow returned. "All set?" 

"Shoes on feet," she replied, pointing at her Vans. She looked at the pile of clothes. "Did you get your wallet?" 

"Yes," Spike said. "It seems a bit lighter though." 

"But I put everything ba-" Willow saw his large grin and hit his arm. "Ooh! That wasn't very nice." 

He was about to say something when the doorbell rang. Both of them jumped, startled, and shot each other wide eyed glances. "Um...hallway,"she said, giving him a push in that direction. The bell rang again and she squealed in despair. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and plastered a huge smile on her face before opening the door. 

"Hey Willster," Xander greeted, Buffy standing at his side. 

"Hi, what are you two doing here," Willow replied through her clenched teeth. 

"Aren't you going to let us in?" Buffy asked. 

"What? Oh, yeah, sure," she said, letting them pass. She looked nervously at the hallway, then back at her friends. "What's up?" 

"I lost my necklace this morning," Buffy confessed. "Can we check your room?" 

"My...room?" Willow squeaked. 

"Yes, your room," Buffy said, giving her friend a confused look. 

"Oh, uh, my room," she said. "My room. Which is down the hall. That hall. Which leads to my uh, room." 

"Will, are your feeling ok?" Xander asked, putting his hand on her forehead. 

"Me? I'm fine. Nothing going on here," Willow replied quickly. She gave them a half smile, untucking her hair from behind her ears, then tucking it back. 

"Uh, Will? Necklace?" Buffy said. 

"Oh, necklace! Right," she said. She turned without lifting her feet, the Vans making a loud squeak on the wood floor. She swallowed heavily and gave her friends a tight grin, then headed for the hallway. When she didn't see Spike standing there, she breathed a sigh of relief, then looked around quickly. The door to the bathroom was open, as was the one for the spare bedroom, but she didn't see him. 

"So, what are you doing tonight?" Xander asked from behind her. 

Willow screamed and jumped to face him, hand pressed to her chest. "Xander! You scared me!" 

Xander's brow furrowed as he looked at his oldest friend. "Little jumpy there, Will," he said, then blinked in surprise when he saw her neck. "Is that a tattoo?" 

"A who?" Willow asked. 

He brought his hand up and touched her neck. "This devil." 

Willow clamped her hand over the spot. "What this? Heh, heh. It's a tattoo." 

"Willow's  _friend_  Billy put it on her," Buffy informed him with a grin. 

"Oh really?" Xander said, putting his hand on his chin. "Velly, velly interesting." 

"Yeah, it's interesting," Willow chuckled nervously. "Now about that necklace..." 

 

 

* * *

  


 

XXI - The Emperor's New Clothes

  


 

Willow thumped her head repeatedly against the door she just closed behind Xander and Buffy. 

"That was interesting, ducks." 

"Aah!" Willow screamed, looking in startled fright at the blond vampire. 

Spike chuckled. "Willow, I think you need to cut back on the caffeine." 

She stomped over to him and began hitting his chest. "You scared me, you...you...vampire!" 

He grabbed her wrists and grinned down at her. "Tsk, tsk. What language." 

Willow wrinkled her nose at him as he released her. "Where were you hiding?" 

"In your room," Spike replied with a wink. 

"But, I didn't see you," Willow said, frowning. 

"I thought that was the point?" 

"Just be glad I like you, or you'd be in big trouble, mister," she said, giving him a scathing look. "Now, let's get you some new clothes." 

Twenty minutes later, the two new friends entered the automatic doors of Sunnydale mall. "So, what kind of clothes do you want?" Willow asked, hooking her arm through his. "More jeans and T-shirts or something different?"

"I'm in your hands, kitten," Spike said, giving her a lewd grin. She arched her brow at him, then led him to the first good store, where they were immediately pounced on by a bubbly salesgirl. 

"Like hi! Can I help you?" Her name tag told them her name was Sissy. 

"Like sure," Willow replied, just as air-head like. Spike bit his cheek to keep from laughing. "We're gonna need, like, a dressing room. That one over there in the, like, corner would be, like, perfect." 

"Like, ok!" Sissy gushed, turning on her heel and bouncing to the dressing room. 

"That was annoying," Spike commented. He looked down at his companion. "Can I eat her?" 

"No eating the salesgirls, no matter how much they deserve it," Willow told him, as she began to weave her way to the men's clothing at the back of the store. "What's your favorite color?" He arched his brow, giving her a pointed look. "Never mind. Take off your coat." 

"Do what?" 

"Spike, first of all, it's eighty degrees outside. Secondly, I need to see what size you wear," she said exasperately. 

He sighed dramatically, but complied. "Happy?" Willow rolled her eyes, then walked around behind him and lifted up his red shirt. "Hey now! What the bloody hell are you doing?" 

"Relax, ‘fraidy cat, I'm just reading the label on the back of your jeans," Willow said. *And checking out your cute butt,* she thought to herself, then blushed. She dropped his shirt, walked back around him and looked him over with a critical eye. "Medium," she concluded. She turned to the rack of clothing and began going through it. "If you see something you like, don't hesitate to grab it." 

Spike's eyes widened at her words. *Down boy,* he thought, swallowing heavily. He took a step away from her before he could do exactly that. *Don't screw this up, * he admonished himself. *You wouldn't want to lose your first real friend.*

"Earth to Spike," Willow said, waving a hand in front of his face. He blinked and looked at her. "Where did you go?"

"Nowhere, pet," he replied. 

"If you say so," she said. "Come on, let's go try these on." 

"Are you going to help me change, too?" Spike teased. 

Willow blushed. "No, but you can model, if you want." 

"You all, like, ready?" Sissy asked when they approached the dressing room. 

"Like, yes," Willow replied, shaking the clothes in her arms. 

"Ok, here you go," Sissy said, unlocking the door. "Let me know if you, like, need anything else." Sissy bounced away as perkily as before and the red head sighed. 

"Are you positive I can't eat her?" Spike asked. 

In response, Willow pushed him into the small, dressing room and shoved the clothes into his arms. "I'll be in this chair, expecting a show," she told him, then shut the door with a devilish grin. 

As she waited, she kept an eye on Sissy, who was hovering just far enough away not to be intrusive, but ready enough to help if called. Good employee. 

The wooden door opened to reveal a completely different Spike. Willow's mouth dropped open when she saw him, dressed in a pair of tan khaki pants and a dark blue, long sleeve shirt with a blue on white stripe around the middle at chest level, tucked in. The outfit made him look younger, less tough, but no less male. 

"Willow?" Spike said, uncertainty in his voice. 

Willow closed her mouth with an audible clack, then began to nod her head in approval. "You," the word came out as a squeak and she blushed. "You look good." 

Spike gave her a half grin and looked down at himself. "This sort of thing will take some getting used to." 

"You'll be a hip vampire in no time," Willow teased, overcoming her amazement at his appearance. 

He rolled his eyes and closed the door again. He modeled several more pants/shirt combinations until he was down to a pair of really ugly plaid pants and an obnoxious striped shirt. "Um, Willow?" he called out through the door.

"Yeah, Spike?"

"Did you pick out these bloody ridiculous pants?" 

"Do what?" Willow said, mimicking one of his British expressions. 

He opened the door a crack and stuck his hand out, gesturing for her to come over. She stood, approached the door and suddenly found herself being yanked inside the small fitting room. "Look," he said, facing her to the awful clothing on the hangers. 

But Willow had her eyes tightly closed so she  _wouldn't_  look. "Spike," she squeaked again. "What are you doing?" 

"I'm asking you if you picked those out," he replied. "I will  _not_  wear plaid." 

"Plaid?" Willow asked, her eyes opening to silts, ready to shut at the slightest view of a certain vampire. In front of her was her own reflection and the most hideous clothing she'd ever seen. Her eyes widened. "Orange, green and blue plaid? I didn't even think that was possible." 

"So, you're not conspiring against me?" Spike asked. 

"I wouldn't even force this on my most feared enemy," she said, fingering the pants. She suddenly conjured up an image of Angel wearing them when he attacked her at the school that terrible night and burst out laughing. 

"What's so funny, ducks?" Spike asked, watching as tears streamed down her face from merriment in the mirror. 

"I just pictured Angel wearing these pants," she gasped out between laughs. 

The image of his sire in the plaid appeared in his mind's eye. He started to chuckle, then all out laugh as the striped shirt was added to the picture. "Cor, luv, that's bloody hilarious," he managed to get out, resting his forehead on his arm on the wall as he laughed. 

"Could you see Buffy's reaction?" Willow asked, wiping her eyes as she turned to face him. "She'd never have to worry abo-" She cut off suddenly as she saw him. Almost  _all_  of him. She felt her cheeks start to flame, her eyes widening again as he stood leaning against his arm, wearing nothing more than a pair of black briefs. 

Spike's laughter trailed off and he turned his head to see her looking at him, her face flushed, her green eyes large. He was suddenly very aware that he was standing only in his knickers, and would have blushed if he could have. Instead, he faced her fully, standing proud and made a grand gesture. "Do you like the emperor's new clothes?" 

Willow's hand shot up to her face, covering her eyes, and she squealed in embarrassment. But behind her eyelids she could still see him clearly, all pale and sculptured, with the angel tattoo prominent on his pectoral muscle. "I...uh...you...eep!" 

He chuckled and quickly slid on his own black jeans. "You can open your eyes now, Willow," he told her as he leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed over his bare chest, smirk on his face. 

"Are you decent?" 

"Luv, I'm never decent," Spike replied. 

 

* * *

  


 

XXII - Plain Vanilla

  


 

"How about some ice cream, ducks?" Spike asked as they made their way out of the store loaded down with bags of new clothing. He was going to have some serious bills on his credit cards. 

"Ice cream!" Willow exclaimed, bouncing on her toes. "You bet'cha!" 

Spike chuckled and led her over to the food area on the second floor of the mall. He looked at all the flavors while they waited in line. "What would you like?" 

"One scoop Rocky Road, once scoop Mint Chocolate Chip," she told him. "What are you going to get." 

"Vanilla," he replied as they stepped forward in line. 

"Vanilla? But that's so...so plain," Willow said. 

"So?" 

"So, why vanilla?" 

"It's my favorite flavor," Spike admitted. "Plus, all these bloody weird names try on my patience when I go to read them all. Vanilla. Plain. Simple. Goes good with a side of blood." 

"Um, eew?" Willow said, wrinkling her nose. They were next in line, cutting off further conversation until they had their cones. Walking over to the glass railings, they leaned on the protective dividers and watched the people below as they ate. "Spike? If I ask you a kinda personal question, do you promise not to use me as your side of blood?" 

Spike arched an eyebrow at her. "What's that, pet?" 

"No, promise first. I know you keep your word," she said. 

"Ok, I promise not to eat you," he said. "Now, what's the question?" 

"Do you..." Willow trailed off, licked her ice cream, then took a deep breath and let her thoughts rush out. "Do you have problems reading?" 

"Why?" Spike asked, frowning at the vanilla cone as the ice cream dripped onto his hand. 

"Well, I kinda noticed that you stumbled over the words as you read the beginning to the Star Wars movies, then the cake mix and now you tell me you don't like to read the names of the different ice cream flavors," she said. "Not that having trouble is a bad thing. In fact, it's normal for some people. Lots of people. Old people. Not that I'm saying you're old." 

"Willow," he interrupted. She looked over at him with wide, green eyes, and he knew he could never hold anything back from her. She was becoming that kind of friend. "Yes, I have trouble reading. It's bloody annoying at times, especially because I can't ask anyone what a certain word is. Can you picture me, William the Bloody, ask one of my minions what the ice cream flavors are?" 

"That would pose a problem," Willow said, her forehead wrinkling in consternation. "Um, would you...I mean, I could...help, if you'd like. But, you don't have to like. Or want. My help that is. We can just stand here and eat ice cream. That's slowly dripping down my arm." 

Spike chuckled at the face she made as the green liquid ran down her hand and wrist. He handed her one of the napkins he grabbed. "Kitten, I'd be happy to have your assistance." 

"Really?" she said, getting excited at the thought of teaching. 

"Yes, really," he replied, hitting her nose with his cone, leaving a white blob on the tip. 

Willow swallowed heavily when he did this, her mind going back several years to when Xander almost kissed her because of the ice cream on her nose. Then they were interrupted by vampires, and kissed two years later causing Oz to dump her on graduation. Now, she was  _with_  a vampire  _because_  Oz dumped her, and she had ice cream on her nose. 

Spike leaned forward and she started to panic, her breathing becoming fast and erratic. *Oh god, oh god, oh god,* she thought over and over. *What's he going to do? Oh god, oh god, oh god.* 

He sucked the ice cream off her nose. 

Her knees collapsed and she fell heavily against the protective wall and they both watched as her cone slipped through her fingers and plummeted to the first floor. It landed with a splat. 

"I don't think that's how your suppose to eat ice cream, pet," Spike said seriously, trying not to give into the laughter that was threatening to burst out. 

Willow turned bright red and took a few steps back from the edge. "Um...oops?" 

 

 

* * *

  


 

XXIII - Pictures in the Mind

  


 

"That was fun, pet," Spike said as they walked back to Willow's house after the mall had closed. They were both loaded down with bags of clothes. He was glad he'd driven to her house earlier, but should have thought to drive to the mall. Too late now. 

"Yup," Willow agreed. After the embarrassment over the ice cream, she scolded herself for thinking he actually wanted to kiss her. And for actually wanting to kiss  _him._  

Not that he was bad looking. In fact, he was extremely handsome in a hard, rebel sort of way, with the bleached hair and the leather duster. *He was pretty sexy in nothing but black briefs, either.* Willow began to blush at the way her thoughts were taking her, so she started to babble. 

"Spike? I wanted to let you know, in case it ever comes up, or you hear something and you wanted to know who I was talking about. It's you. I had to think of something when Buffy asked. I couldn't just tell her that it was you who put the tattoo on my neck. She'd wig. Lots of wigging would have occurred. And that would not be good..." 

"Willow," Spike said, interrupting her dialogue. 

"Um, yeah?" 

"What did you want to tell me?" 

"Oh! I told her your name was Billy," Willow replied. She looked over at him and saw he was frowning at her confession. "Is that ok?" 

"Sure," he said with a shrug. "Why not? I have new clothes, might as well have a new name to go with it." He shot her a cocky grin. 

Willow let out the breath that she'd been holding in relief as they approached her house. "Well, this is where I get off." 

Spike stopped walking suddenly and looked at her as a picture formed in his mind. A  _very_  graphic picture. He shifted the bags in his hand to the front of his body to cover the result of his vivid imagination. "Willow," the name came out as a high pitched squeak, as if he were going through puberty again. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Willow?" 

Willow looked over at him and could swear he was blushing. "Yeah, Spike?" 

"Would you like to get together tomorrow and do...something?" he asked. He felt like he was once again reduced to a sixteen year old with a hard on asking a beautiful woman out on a date. Which was what he was doing, although he was a tad bit older than sixteen. 

"During the day?" Willow asked. He nodded. "Ok. But you better give my your phone number just in case. Oh, and what time?" 

"Anytime you want, kitten," Spike replied, a grin spreading across his face. "And the number is 749-5211." 

"Ok," she nodded and handed him the other bags. "I, uh, guess I'll see you tomorrow." 

"I'll count the hours," he told her. 

Willow blushed and tucked her hair behind her ears. "Well, goodnight." 

"Goodnight, Willow," Spike said. She gave him a little wave and went into her house. His grin turned into an uncomfortable frown as he walked to the back of his car, the material of his jeans just a little to tight for comfort. "Bloody hell. You're acting as though you've never had a woman before, mate. This is Willow. Your friend. Not someone who'd want you like that." He threw the bags in the trunk, then jumped into the car and sped off down the street. 


	3. Chapter 3

 

* * *

 

 

XXIV - Recommended Reading List

 

 

 

#### "Eep!" Willow squeaked as she bumped into Giles. "Giles! You startled me." 

"My apologies, Willow," Giles said. "I did not know you were here." 

"Oh, well, here I am," Willow replied. "In the library. Doing...library stuff." 

"You are not delving further into the-the-the black arts than you should?" Giles asked, looking at the books in her arms. 

"What? Oh, no, no delving for me. I am working on a project. Tutoring. Just helping out my fellow man...er, yeah, man," she said. *Well, he _is_  male, so technically he's a man. And what a man.* She began to blush at her thoughts. 

"Anything I may assist you in locating?" Giles inquired. 

"No, I found what I needed," Willow replied. "It's amazing to actually be looking for books not on the Recommended Reading for Demon Hunters Everywhere list." 

Giles smiled. "Yes, well, this _is_  a school library. I suppose it-it should carry additional reading materials." Willow moved to behind the check out counter to scan her books. "So, Willow, how does it feel to be a-a graduate?" 

"Not real," she answered. "I mean, it's like, this is just another summer break. Come fall, I'll be right back. But I won't be. Back that is. I'll be in college, living in a dorm, not having classes every day." She closed the books and headed for the table. "I don't want to go." 

"Why not?" 

"Because I won't be here, I'll be there. Away from Sunnydale. Away from Buffy and Xander and you. I won't be here to be the net girl! How are you going to research big evil things? Maybe it's not too late to change my mind," Willow rambled. 

"Willow, you will only be a few hours away by car," Giles told her. "Plus, I am sure that A-Angel could use your assistance with that...dread machine. And Cordelia will be there." 

"Thanks for reminding me," she said under her breath. Giles caught it and hid his grin. "Well, I guess I should go home now. You probably want to go, too, seeing as it's 10:30 already. Unless you're waiting for Buffy to get back from patrol." 

"No, I was only catching up on actual school librarian duties," he replied. "Would you like a ride home?" 

"I am so glad you guys are here," Buffy said before Willow could answer as she burst through the library doors, Xander in tow. "We have a major ick factor running loose in Sunnydale." She held up her arms, both of which were covered with a thick, orangish slime. "See?" 

"Good lord, what happened?" Giles asked. 

"Xander and I were patrolling through the park, met up with Angel, big slimy creature came running out of the woods, fought said creature, got slimed, creature ran away," Buffy summarized. 

"You should have seen Deadboy," Xander added. "He looked like a melted Orangcicle." 

"How come your not covered in goo, Xander?" Willow asked. 

"I did the manly thing when it attacked," Xander replied. "I hid." 

Willow dropped her backpack back on the table. "I guess it's research time." 

 

 

* * *

 

XXV - At the Sound of the Beep

 

 

3:03 

Spike was both worried and angry as the clock changed on the wall. He'd only been able to sleep for a few hours earlier that morning and ever since he'd been trying to keep busy so he wouldn't go out of his mind. Usually he terrorized his minions to pass the time, but since returning to Sunnydale, he hadn't created any new ones. It was too much of a hassle to teach them to hunt and survive against the Slayer, and after the fiasco known as Drusilla he hadn't brought any back with him from Brazil. Besides, he preferred to stay on the Slayer's good side, even though she still didn't know he was back. 

3:04 

"Bloody hell," he cursed, grabbing the magazine he'd been unsuccessfully trying to read in between channel surfing, cleaning and making brownies from a recipe he'd found on the back of a box of chocolate. For a vampire, he had a surprisingly well stocked kitchen. 

3:07 

"Bugger it," Spike growled, throwing the magazine on the coffee table after only a paragraph. He stood and went into the bedroom. He picked up a yo-yo he had commandeered from last nights dinner and began to play with it. 

3:14 

The yo-yo hit the wall with a loud smack before falling harmlessly to the floor. 

3:16 

"At the tone the time will be 3:16. Beep." 

3:17 

Spike stomped naked to the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting it warm up before stepping in. He put both hands flat on the wall and leaned forward, the water hitting the back of his neck, then around his jaw to run onto the floor of the tub. *Get a grip,* he thought. *You're acting like a nancyboy. Or worse, like the Slayer's lap dog.* 

3:32 

The peroxide blond vampire stood in front of his closet dripping water onto the floor despite the towel around his waist. He eyed the multitude of new clothing hanging neatly in a row, pants on one side, shirts on the other. Angelus once called him anal for all his meticulousness when it came to his possessions. Everything had a place and everything in its place. 

3:34 

Dressed in a hunter green T-shirt tucked into a pair of blue jeans, Spike ran his fingers through his hair as he made his way back to the living room barefoot. He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, flipping channels until he found Jeopardy. He enjoyed this game show. The contestants actually had to think, and he could play along. He grabbed the pad of paper and pen he kept on the coffee table to keep a tally. His highest score was 24 out of 30 squares correct. 

4:03 

Spike turned the channel to NBC, somewhat dejected at his low score and the fact that he was beginning to doubt Willow would show up. Luckily, Rosie was on. Hers was his favorite talk show now that the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson was no more. 

5:02 

"And in local news, a mysterious orange slime has been found covering the playground equipment at Weatherly Park. More on that in a little while..." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XXVI - Oh, Sh*t!

 

 

"Mmm," Willow said as someone shook her. "Stop or I'll turn you into a newt." 

"Willow, wake up," Buffy said, still shaking her friend. 

"Wha..." Willow opened her eyes and sat up straight, the imprint of the computer keyboard on her cheek. "Oh, I fell asleep." 

"We all did," Buffy said. She pointed at the snoring Xander on the library steps, books surrounding him. "Well, not Giles, but I don't think he ever sleeps." 

"Oh shit!" Willow exclaimed as she saw the clock. 

"Willow!" Buffy's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in amazement. "When did you start saying bad words?" 

"Phone number, phone number, where is it?" the hacker mumbled, ignoring her friend as she dug through the outer pocket of her backpack. "I know I wrote it down and shoved it in here, just in case." 

"Um, Wills?" Buffy said. 

"Ah-ha! Got it!" Willow said, pulling out a scrap of paper in triumph. 

"Willow, are you feeling ok?" Buffy asked, putting a hand on her forehead. "You're acting kinda wiggy." 

"Oh, sorry, Buffy," she replied, giving the Slayer a sheepish grin. "I, uh, told someone I'd come over today. Well, earlier today. I can't believe it's after 5:00. I hope he doesn't think I blew him off." 

"Him?" Buffy said, raising an eyebrow. "As in Billy?" 

"What? Oh, yeah. Billy," Willow said. "My friend." 

"I got that picture," Buffy said. "Well, go call so you can come back here and tell me just how good a friend he is." 

Willow blushed. "He's only a friend." 

"Uh-huh." 

Willow scurried away to use the phone, turning her back to the blond. She tucked her hair behind her ears, then picked up the receiver and dialed. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XXVII - I'm So Sorry

 

 

"Hello?" 

"I am so sorry," Willow began without greeting. "I was here at the library getting some books when Buffy and Xander came in after they had fought some creature that slimes people with orange goo and Xander said that Angel looked like a melted Orangcicle, then we had to do research and we were here all night and I fell asleep in the keyboard and now have a nice imprint of the keys on my cheek and I bet I look really bad and I think that was my stomach that just growled at me, which kinda sounds like you..." 

"Willow," Spike interrupted on the other end of the line. 

"Um, yeah?" 

"It's ok," he said. 

"Really?" 

"Yes, really," he replied. "I know about the orange slime creature." 

"You do?" Willow said. "Um...you didn't make it appear, did you?" 

"Now why would I do something like that?" Spike asked. 

"Well, it's kinda like something you would do, going by your past exploits here in Sunnydale," she replied. 

"True," he chuckled. "But no worries, pet. I saw it on the news, that's how I know." 

"Oh," Willow said. "Good." 

"I take it you'll be busy for awhile," Spike said. 

"Until we get rid of it," she replied. "Looks like I won't be coming over today. Or tomorrow. Or, I don't know when." 

"That's alright, ducks," he said. "You just do your smart thing. I've been entertaining myself for awhile now. I think I can survive." 

Willow giggled, then blushed when Buffy arched her eyebrow at her. "I better go." 

"Bye, luv," Spike said. 

"Bye," Willow replied and hung up the phone. She untucked her hair, then tucked it back behind her ears again before walking back to the computer. 

"Will, you babbled," Buffy said. "You only babble when you're nervous or excited. And that means Mr. Devil Tattoo-er must be a hottie." 

Willow blushed a deeper shade of red and started typing on the keyboard. "He's...cute." 

"Uh-huh." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XXVIII - Delivery

 

 

"Um...is there a Willow here?" 

The four in various modes of research looked up at the pizza delivery boy standing near the library doors. "That's me," Willow said, her brow coming together in confusion. 

"Then these are for you," he said, taking two large pizzas out of the carry bag as he walked over to the table. Buffy and Xander quickly cleared a spot for him to set them down. 

"Uh...I didn't order any pizzas," Willow said. 

"Will, never pass up pizza," Xander scolded her. He looked at the delivery boy. "How much?" 

"Nothing. It's already been paid for, tip included," he replied, closing the bag and heading out of the library. "Enjoy." 

"Thanks," Buffy called after him. She looked at Willow who shrugged. 

"I have no clue," she said. 

"Maybe this message will help," Xander said as he pointed to the black marker on the lid of the second pizza. "It says ‘Slimed and in that plaid, what a great picture. Give us a bell.'" 

Willow made a noise that was cross between a snort, giggle and squeal, then covered her face with her hands and began laughing. Buffy, Xander and Giles all looked at her in confusion. "I take it this means something," Buffy commented. 

"Well, ‘give us a bell' is one way to say ‘call me' in Britain," Giles said. 

"Willow, care to clue us in on the inside joke?" Xander asked. 

Willow shook her head no, calming down enough to look at her friends. She reached out to open the box when the message caught her eye again and she started to giggle. "You had to have seen the plaid to understand." 

"Right, well, thank the mystery sender for me," Xander said, grabbing a slice and devouring it in four large bites. 

"Um, eew," Buffy said, watching Xander. 

Willow smiled and took a bite of her own slice as conversation picked up between the friends while they began to eat. *If your not careful, Willow, you're going to start really liking Spike,* she thought as she watched Giles try not to get sauce on himself. *But would that be such a bad thing?* 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XXIX - Sunnyhell Petting Zoo

 

 

"Bloody hell," Spike cursed as he stalked down the street. He was bored out of his mind. Willow had called several over times the last few weeks when she could, but she hadn't been able to visit due to the increase in ‘Hellmouth baddies' as she called the various creatures that decided to descend on the suburb this summer. "Summer is suppose to be dead. Deader than me. Sunnyhell is turning out to be worse than a petting zoo." 

"That made absolutely no sense." 

Willow's voice coming from behind him made him whirl on his heel. She was standing outside the french doors to her bedroom, leaning on the railing with her chin in her palm. He hadn't even realized he was on her street, although perhaps subconsciously his feet propelled him here. 

"Do what, pet?" Spike asked, a grin forming on his face as he walked to her. 

"What's so bad about a petting zoo?" Willow said, an echoing smile on her own features. Her eyes quickly took in his dark green khaki's and grey T-shirt. 

"It stinks, it's crowded and the animals are always attacking you for some bloody tidbits of food," he replied, leaning against the rail on the opposite side. 

"But at least the animals are cute," she said. "Not like the icky things we've been dealing with the past month. They're...icky." 

Spike smiled at her. "So, ducks, what are you doing outside so late? Don't you know there are bad, icky things afoot?" 

"Saw you practically pounding holes in the pavement as you came up the street," Willow replied. "Anything wrong?" 

"No, I'm only bored out of my ever loving mind," he told her. "With no minions to pick on and my only friend busy helping the Slayer all the time, it's surprising I don't cause a ruckus just to keep myself amused." 

"Please don't," she said. "I don't think I can take any more ruckuses." 

"‘Ruckuses'?" 

"Bite me." 

He grinned. "If you wish..." 

"Try it, blond boy," she warned. "And you'll find yourself on the receiving end of a right ‘cross'."

"That was bad, pet," Spike said with a laugh. 

"What'cha doing tomorrow?" Willow asked standing upright and holding onto the rail, leaning back on her heels. 

"Not causing ruckuses, that's for sure," he replied. She rolled her eyes. "Why for?" 

"There's a computer convention in LA that I want to go to. I was there last year and it's in a big, windowless convention center with underground parking and I thought maybe you'd like to join me," she said. "Giles says that we've seen the end of the rucki, knock on wood." With the last three words, she reached out and rapped her knuckles on his head. 

Spike gave her a look when she did this, which made her giggle. "Sure, I'd love to go," he answered. "What time do you want me to pick you up?" 

"Around 7:00,"she said. "There's no smoking there, and it's not like you'll be able to step outside, so be sure to get your fix before we leave." 

"Yes, dear," he whined in a pinched voice. 

"Goodnight, Spike," Willow told him as she turned to go back inside. 

"‘Night, Willow," Spike replied. 

She paused at the door. "Do you like donuts?" 

"Chocolate with chocolate sprinkles," he answered immediately. 

"Then you bring the coffee, and I bring the donuts," she smiled. "‘Night." 

"Goodnight, sleep tight, don't let the vampires bite...unless it's me," Spike said with a cocky grin. Willow rolled her eyes without comment and went inside. With a slight skip, the blond vampire whistled as he headed for home, not bored any longer. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XXX - I Want My MTV

 

 

Willow grabbed her backpack and the box of donuts. "Coming, coming. Jeez, impatient much?" she muttered as the horn beeped again. She double checked her appearance, smoothing down the white with multi-colored piping hippie blouse and jeans, made a beeline to the kitchen to make sure the back door was locked, then hurried out the front with another beep. She glared in the direction of where Spike would be sitting if she could see through the blacked out windows, then hustled to the passenger side and climbed in. "Honk a few more times, why don't you? I don't think you've woken anyone up in Japan." 

"Sarcasm does not become you, pet," Spike replied with a grin. He saw the box of donuts in her hand and his smile grew. "Where to, lass?" 

"Transpacific," she said. "Then get off on the biway. I'll give you more directions when we get closer." Spike nodded and pulled the car away from the curb. She looked over at him, noting that he was wearing her favorite outfit from their shopping spree - blue jeans and a tucked in plain, black T-shirt. She loved the way the tight fitting shirt emphasized his lean muscles. *Yummy,* she thought, then tossed her backpack in the back seat. "By the way, interesting car." 

"It's clean, too," he said. "You should have seen what was crawling around in here last night, ducks. I think they were some of those icky things you and the Slayer have been dealing with." 

"You  _can_  call her Buffy, you know," Willow told him. "You did twice before." 

"But then I'd have to admit that she's a...a...bloody hell." 

"She's a bloody hell?" 

Spike rolled his eyes as she giggled. "No, you silly woman. If I call her by name, I'd be admitting she's not my mortal enemy." 

"She's not," Willow stated. 

"Why praytell is that?" 

"Because she likes you...in a he's-a-bad-guy-but-not-really-that-bad-of-a-guy sort of way." 

"Right." 

"I'm serious," she said. "If you didn't have that whole killing thing, you two would probably be friends." 

"Now that's something I didn't want to picture," he shuddered. "Besides, I have enough friends already." 

"Spike, I'm your only friend," Willow said. 

"See?" Spike replied with a large smile. "Give me one of those donuts that you've been hording there." 

Willow shook her head and opened the box. "Let's see, we have jelly, twists, custard, plain, powdered, glazed..." She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and saw him pouting, and she had a feeling he didn't even know he was doing it. "And of course, chocolate with chocolate sprinkles." She laughed when his whole face lit up like a little boys as she handed him one. 

"What are you laughing at?" Spike asked, then took a bite. 

"Nothing, pet," Willow replied, choosing her own. He made a face at her and she giggled again. "Music?" 

"Be my guest," he said, gesturing with his donut holding hand. 

Willow leaned forward and turned on the radio, wincing at the hard rock music that came out of the speakers. She started pushing buttons to see what he had ‘programmed' on the old radio, then gave up and turned the dial to a good station. 

"What do you call this bloody noise?" Spike asked when she stopped playing. 

"Music," she replied, leaning back and munching on her donut. 

 _On your mark, ready, set, let's go_  
Dance floor pro  
I know, you know  
I go psycho  


"This is not music," he said over the song. 

"Yes, it is Spike," she said. 

"It's bloody annoying." 

"Just shush." 

 _You've gotta prada_  
Bag with a lotta  
Stuff, give it to your friend  
Let's spin  
Hey by looking at me  
Glance at the kid  


"Who sings, and I use the word loosely, this crap?" Spike asked. 

"Will Smith, and it's  _not_  crap," Willow replied. 

"Who's Will Smith?" 

"He's the guy in  _Independence Day, Men In Black, Six Degrees of Separation_ ," she said. 

He looked over at her with an incredulous expression. "You're bloody pulling my chain." 

"Nope," Willow said. "It's him. He did this great song in the eighties called ‘Parents Just Don't Understand.'" 

 _Big willie style_  
Getting jiggy wit it  
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah  
Getting jiggy wit it   


"I remember that song," Spike said. "I saw it with the video on MTV." 

"You watch MTV?" 

"Dead cert," he answered with a grin. "I saw the very first video. It was...bloody awful." 

"‘Video Killed the Radio Star,'" Willow said. At his look, she shrugged. "It's a Trivial Pursuit question." 

"So tell me, kitten, how does one ‘get jiggy wit it'?" 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XXXI - Nerdology Convention

 

 

Willow giggled at the expression on Spike's face as they entered the convention hall. She was slightly hyper from the coffee she'd drank on the ride down. Of course the blond vampire, as she was learning, was always hyper. 

"This is bloody huge!" Spike exclaimed, his blue eyes wide as he let go of his tough-guy persona. His gaze flitted from booth to booth, roaming over the new technology with excitement. "How are we suppose to see all this in one day?"

"We don't," Willow replied. "We're staying overnight at the Holiday Inn." 

He did a double take at her offhanded comment, not believing his ears. Plus, the idea of him spending the night with the red head was creating interesting images in his head. He decided to say something before his hormones got out of control. "But I didn't bring any extra clothes along." 

She winked at him. "Don't worry, I got you covered. Now, come on. We have a lot of new stuff to check out," she said, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the first booth. 

When they got to the booth, Spike snatched up a copy of the technology description. He frowned at it, then glared at Willow when she grabbed it from his hands. 

"Don't frown, you'll get wrinkles," she said, then giggled as he rolled his eyes at her. She quickly scanned the information on the sheet, then cleared her throat. "This is the XJP-2976, a remarkable new technological innovation," she began pretending to be an emcee or radio announcer. "With it's fast upload and quick refresh rate, the XJP is a must have for all large business networks..." 

They spent the entire day moving from booth to booth in a similar fashion, with Willow summarizing any handouts while Spike listened and studied the new technology for as long as he could before he dragged her to the next one. In the middle of the day while she was questioning one of the attendants, he had snuck away for a quick bite, making sure not to drain his meal, then rejoined her as if nothing had happened. 

She was definitely not fooled, because when he returned to her side, Willow looked up at him with an arched brow and a pointed glare. With that look, he was reduced to a little boy who had done something bad. "Sorry," Spike mumbled, staring down at his feet. 

"You better be," Willow said to him before moving onto the next booth. "I don't want my weekend ruined because the convention had to close due to dead bodies." 

"I didn't kill her," Spike protested. "I only took a little. She won't even miss it." 

"Shove it, Spike," she hissed. "I want your promise that you won't snack on the attendees here, or the hotel staff later." 

"I have to eat, too, you know," he hissed right back. 

Willow stopped walking and stood on her toes, nose to nose with him. "I know you do, and I don't like it, but I'm not going to stop you later. However until then, promise." 

Spike debated whether or not to argue with her, to keep her standing this close to him, but decided it would be wiser not to end up with a stake in his heart. "I promise. No bloody eating of the attendees." 

"Or the hotel staff." 

"Or the hotel staff," he repeated with a sigh. 

Willow nodded, taking a step back from him. "Good. Now, lets get back to the show." 

It took close to an hour to cajole the red head back into a good mood. Spike didn't know why it was so important to him to get her back to that state, only that he didn't like being in the doghouse with her. It made him feel like a heel, and he didn't like it one bit. 

"Earth to Spike," Willow said, waving her hand in front of his face. "Where do you keep going that's so fascinating, ‘cuz maybe I'd like it there." 

Spike chuckled. "Sorry, ducks. Just spacing out a bit." He glanced at the large clock on the wall. "What say we get out of here? I've had about enough nerdology for one day." 

"‘Nerdology'?" Willow asked. 

"This stuff is for nerds," Spike explained, biting his cheek at her look.

"Doesn't that make me a nerd, considering I love this stuff?" she said. 

"Hell yeah," he replied, giving her a cocky smile. 

"I don't know if I should take offense or not," Willow told him, eyeing his smile. 

Spike slung his arm around her shoulder, leaning his head down to whisper conspiratorially in her ear. "All the others will be jealous that you're a nerd, yet you got me." 

Willow started to blush at the thought. "I...uh...don't understand you sometimes, you know that?" 

He laughed as they started to head for the exit. "That's ok, pet. I don't understand you, either. But it sure is fun trying to." 

She rolled her eyes, enjoying the feel of his arm around her shoulder. "You are one strange vampire." 

"And you love me despite of that fact," he replied, giving her a sexy grin. "So, where to now, luv?" 

"Um...hotel. Then food," she answered. "I figured we can go out and look around after that." 

"Since you have big, bad me to protect you?" 

"I was thinking more along the lines of me protecting you," Willow teased, poking him in the ribs. She had learned that Spike was quite ticklish in certain spots and used that information often. 

Spike grabbed her hand and held it captive as they exited the elevator to the underground parking. "Whatever you say, kitten. I know better than to argue with you when you have your claws out," he said, squeezing her hand. He let his arm fall to the side, but did not relinquish her hand. He was enjoying the sensation of her smaller, softer one in his a little too much to let her go. 

Willow smiled at him and they continued the way to the car hand in hand in a comfortable, friendly silence. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XXXII - Facets

 

 

Willow sighed happily, quite stuffed. After checking into the hotel, and bouncing on the matching double beds like children, the two went out to get something to eat. They ended up at a street diner, watching and commenting on the people who passed by the window as they ate. Well, she ate. Spike just had something to drink and stole her fries. 

"Mother, five kids, works at the grocers, no husband, lives in a two bedroom flat within walking distance to work," Spike said, continuing their game as a woman passed by the window. 

"Business man, married, wants to get laid," Willow said, nodding to the suit-clad mad who walked by in the other direction. "Sorry, sweety, hookers are two blocks over and you better have a lot of money, ‘cuz once they take a look at you, they'll be running the other way." 

"Willow!" Spike exclaimed, shocked. "You're not suppose to be the crude one." 

She shrugged, sipping on her drink. "That's what they keep telling me," she commented. "I keep my devious, cruel self buried deep down." 

"But you're showing it to me," he said to her cautiously. 

"Well, you're devious and cruel all the time, so you can't talk," Willow pointed out, wading up the straw wrapper into a little ball. She gave him an innocent smile. "Besides, no one would believe you if you did." 

"I like you," Spike said with a chuckle. "You have so many bloody facets to your personality, I'm always on my toes, wondering what you're going to do or say next." Willow winked at him, then shot the paper ball at him with a flick of her finger. He looked down where it had hit. "See?" 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XXXIII - But It's Permanent

 

 

"Let's go in here," Willow said, pulling on his arm towards the shop. 

"Ducks, that's a tattoo place," Spike pointed out as he was dragged inside. 

"Really?" Willow asked, staring up at him with wide eyes. "I thought it was a petting zoo." 

He scowled at her. "Very funny, pet." 

"I know," she replied, dropping his arm to look around. "So, what kind of tattoo should I get?" 

"You're not bloody serious," Spike said, staring at her. 

Willow gave him an off kilter smile. "Yup." 

"But it's permanent," he said. 

"Mine washed off," she replied. 

"That's no reason to get a tattoo," Spike said. Willow sighed, rolling her eyes at him before picking up a book and taking a seat. "I'll buy you another one."

"Nope, sorry, mind's made up," she told him. "See my resolve face?" Spike muttered something about red headed witches under his breath and went to look at the pictures on the wall making her giggle quietly. Her eye caught another book laying on the table near him and her face lit up in a devilish smile. 

Spike let out a yelp, and spun, looking for what just hit him in the rear. He saw Willow sitting in the chair on the other side of the room, giving him a curious glance. He frowned, then turned back to the wall. 

Willow snickered and levitated the book, smacking him in the ass again, then gently floating it back to the table as he spun again with a growl. She arched her eyebrow in his direction, acting like she didn't know what was going on. Coming to LA alone with Spike was bringing out her naughty side which was rarely seen. 

"Willow, do I have to come over there and cover your eyes?" Spike asked after she did it a third time. 

"Who me? What did I do?" 

"You know very well what you did," he growled as he came over to her. He put his hands on both arms of the chair and leaned down into her face. "Witch." 

"Vampire," she said saucily. The look on his face made her burst into giggles. 

Spike sighed dramatically, then plopped down next to her. "Why me?" 

"I think it's fate," Willow told him. "Or the Goddess is playing one big joke on you." 

"Thanks bunches, pet," he replied sarcastically. At that moment, a very tattooed man walked up to them and he stiffened, his body sliding into protective mode for the red head at his side. "What do you want?" 

"Spike," Willow said, putting her hand on his arm. She smiled up at the man. "Hi!" 

"Hello, little lady," the man said. "Looks like you're interested in body art." 

She nodded, then held up the book in her hand. "Found the one that I want." 

"Well then, follow me," he instructed. 

"Stay here," Willow told Spike, standing to follow the man. 

"Not bloody likely," Spike muttered, following her. She stopped him at the door to the back room. 

"Stay," she said again, glaring at him. "If I need you, you'll know." 

"Fine," he growled, throwing himself into a chair near the door. "But if he hurts you, I'll rip his bloody head off and use it as a centerpiece." 

Willow shook her head, then went into the back to where the man was standing. "Sorry about that. Now, what do I need to do?" 

"Just read and sign this form, then we'll get to work," he said, handing her a clipboard and pen. Willow quickly read the paper and signed her name with a flourish. "Have you picked out which one you want and where you want it?" 

"Yup," Willow replied, opening the book to the page. "This one and I want it right here." 

He smiled at her. "Well, then, let's get started." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XXXIV - Whirlpool

 

 

Spike tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair, his gaze pensive as he waited for Willow to come back. He couldn't believe that she wanted a tattoo, couldn't believe that he'd let her go back there with that tattooed freak alone, couldn't believe that he was sitting there waiting for her like a ninny. 

He growled low in his chest at his thoughts, stood and began pacing in the shop front. *Bloody hell, it's been over an hour. She could be back there getting raped or beaten by that sod! Or she could have been kidnaped, gagged so she couldn't call out for me,* he thought. *Why am I out here instead of going back there and cracking some heads?* 

"Spike?" 

Spike's head shot up, his demon face flashing before he realized it was Willow. Putting the human mask on, he hurried to her side, grasping her arm and looking her from head to toe. "Are you ok?" 

"Of course," Willow said, frowning at him. "Why wouldn't I be?" 

"You were gone for too long," he told her. He let go of her arm and ran his hand through his hair. "Sorry, ducks. Just worried." 

"I'm glad. Not that you were worried. I mean, I'm glad you care enough to worry about me. Not that I meant to worry you." She gave him a small smile. "Ready to go?" 

He nodded and followed her out the door. "What did you get?" 

"Just a little tattoo," she said mysteriously as they headed back to the hotel. "I'm suppose to keep it covered up and clean for a few days to let it heal." 

"Where's it at?" 

"Wouldn't you like to know," Willow replied with a devilish smile. She linked her arm through his. "Want to watch a movie when we get back to the room? Or would you rather check out the whirlpool?" 

"Whatever, luv. Your choice," Spike answered. *Whirlpool, whirlpool, whirlpool,* he chanted mentally. 

"Whirlpool, then," she said. *So I can see him without a shirt on again,* she thought. 

*Thank you!* He shouted in his head. "Sounds fine with me." 

*Yes!* She shouted in her head. "Luckily, I remembered to grab suits for us. I almost forgot, then we wouldn't have been able to go." 

*Or we'd go naked,* he thought, conjuring up an image of Willow. He felt himself grow hard and grit his teeth. "That would have been a shame, pet." 

*Unless we went naked,* she thought, conjuring up an image of Spike. She felt herself flush and she looked down at the floor as they walked through the hotel lobby to the elevators. "Yeah." 

They rode up the elevator in silence, looking anywhere but at each other. Once in the room, Willow grabbed her suit out of the overnight bag and then threw Spike the trunks she'd gotten him. "I'll change first," she said, going into the bathroom and locking the door behind her. 

She leaned back against it and sighed. "Calm down, calm down, calm down," she repeated, centering herself. "It's just Spike. Your friend. Nothing to freak about." She opened her eyes and looked at herself in the mirror. "Eep!" 

Quickly changing into her suit, then sliding her jeans and shirt back over them, she took a deep breath and left the safe haven of the bathroom. "Next." 

Spike moved away from the window he was contemplating throwing himself out of and towards the bathroom. Once inside, he locked the door behind him and leaned against it, closing his eyes. "Alright, mate, get a grip. You're acting like a randy goat. It's Willow. You're friend. Nothing else." 

He looked over at the mirror, noting the lack of reflection and sighed. "Bloody vampire," he said derisively, quickly getting into the swim trunks then sliding his jeans back over them. He grabbed two towels, then opened the door. "All set, kitten." 

The two unlikely friends made there way to the deserted pool area. Willow was surprised because the hotel had been tightly booked with the nerdology convention. She giggled at her thought, earning a puzzled look from her companion. "Nerdology convention," she told him. 

Spike grinned. "Better than a geekers convention," he said. 

"‘Geekers convention'?" Willow asked with another giggle as she dropped her towel on the chair by the whirlpool. Kicking off her shoes, she pulled off her shirt, then looked over at him for explanation. 

"Trekkies, X-Philes," he said, pulling his own black shirt off before bending to remove his Doc Martens. "That sort of thing." 

"Do Star Wars conventions fit into that category?" she said, sliding out of her pants, then walking over towards the whirlpool controls. 

"No, that's an exalted category of its own," Spike replied, turning to throw his jeans over the chair. 

The whirlpool started up, and they both turned, ending up facing each other at the same time.


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

## XXXV - White Mice

 

 

Steam started to float up from the whirlpool, mixing with the dim lighting coming from beneath the water. They both stared at each other, frozen in place like statues. Finally, Willow was able to avert her gaze, blushing as she cleared her throat. "Water looks hot," she said, looking at the bubbles that formed on the surface. However, she didn't see them, she saw  _him._  

"Yeah," Spike managed to get out, his hands clenching into fists at his side. He took a quick step forward and practically jumped into the whirlpool. He needed to get his lower half below the surface of the water before he became _really_  embarrassed. He sat down in the far, non-lit corner and rested his hands in his lap. He avoided looking at her as he tried to will himself to calm down. 

It was not as though either of their suits were risque. Spike's was just a pair of black trunks that came mid thigh, with a red stripe down each side. Willow's was a one-piece racing suit in metallic green. However, the amount of skin showing was affecting both of them much more than it should have for  _just_  being friends. 

Willow wasn't sure what to make of his sudden actions as she slowly walked down the steps into the whirlpool. The hot water washed over her as she sat, and she let out a pleased sigh. 

Spike looked over to her at her sound and a slow grin spread across his face at the expression on hers. "Feels good, pet?" 

"Wonderful," she breathed, resting her shoulders back against the cool tile above the water level. Now that they were under the cover of the water, she was able to easily look at him. "This is nice." 

"That it is," he replied, feeling the tension drain out of him. He still had a bit of a problem beneath his trunks, but it wasn't going to stop him from enjoying Willow's company. "What was your favorite thing so far at the nerdology convention?" 

"You calling it the nerdology convention," she replied with a grin. He chuckled. "Let's see, I liked the new digicams and the keyless keyboard was cool. I wouldn't mind having that PowerFlex ALR, either. What about you?" 

Spike frowned, trying to remember what it was called. That exhibit was the one thing he really paid attention to when she read the leaflet. "That thing over in that one corner. Bloody hell, what was it called..." 

"Oh, that one," Willow said, nodding. "That was cool, too. Could you imagine Buffy using it?" 

"That would be interesting to see," he commented, grinning at her. 

"Tomorrow, we'll do the rest of the show, then we'll have to head back to Sunnydale," she said, kicking her legs out in front of her. "I promised that I'd go to the Bronze with everyone at nine." 

"If you're not, will you turn into a pumpkin?" Spike asked. 

"Watch it, fang face," Willow said. "Or I'll turn you into one of the mice." A picture formed in her mind and she started to laugh. 

"What's so funny about turning me into a bloody mouse?" 

"I just pictured a little white mouse with fangs wearing a black duster," she got out between laughs. 

Spike joined her, the image appearing in his mind. "Cor, luv, that's funny." 

"Cinderelly, Cinderelly, night and day it's Cinderelly," she began to sing in a mousy voice. "Make the fire, fix the breakfast, do the dishes, do the mopping." 

"And the sweeping and the dusting, they always keep her hopping," Spike continued in an extremely high pitched feminine voice. Then he switched to his normal voice to finish the part of the song. "She goes around in circles, ‘til she's very, very dizzy. Still they holler..." 

"Keep her busy, Cinderelly," Willow finished with a flourish. 

They both took one look at each other, then burst out laughing again. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XXXVI - Should I Kiss Her?

 

 

Getting out was much easier than getting into the whirlpool. Spike hopped out first, making sure he stayed facing away from her as he dried off and threw his clothes back on. Willow quickly did the same after admiring his backside in the trunks, blushing the whole while. The trip back to the room was made in pleasant silence, each relaxed after the hot soak. 

Willow dug around in the overnight bag until she found the shorts she'd packed for him, then allowed him to change first as she laid out the next days clothes. When she had planned the trip to the convention, she knew there would be a whirlpool and figured her friend did not own a swimsuit. While she had been out, she decided she'd better get him an extra set of clothes because the overnight part was to be a surprise. The expression on his face when she told him about staying at the hotel was well worth it. 

Spike came out of the bathroom wearing the shorts and his black T-shirt, gesturing to the open door. "Milady," he said. Willow rolled her eyes, grabbed her own sleep wear and went into the bathroom. He chuckled, then went over to the bed which was to be his and propped himself up on it, flicking the television remote. He surfed for several minutes until the hacker emerged from the bathroom, dressed similarly as he in a navy blue T-shirt and plaid shorts. *She's cute,* he thought, giving her a grin. 

"What'cha watching?" Willow asked, plopping down on his bed on her stomach and purposely wagging her feet in his face. 

He grabbed a foot and ran his black nails over it, making her squeal, then began to massage it. "Don't know," he replied. 

"Well, gimme the remote," she instructed, twisting her body to look behind her at him. He chuckled at her position, then snatched the remote off the mounted night stand between the two double beds, handing it to her. She began to flip stations until she landed on PBS, smiling when she saw one of her favorite British comedies. 

"What's this, ducks?" Spike asked, rubbing small circles along the bottom of her foot. 

" _Are You Being Served?_ " Willow replied, bouncing her head to the opening credits. "I like this show, especially Mr. Humphries. He's a hoot." 

"I've seen this," he stated, recognizing the characters once they came on screen. "I liked the one where they dressed up as the nursery rhyme characters." 

"Where Mr. Lukas was not-so-little boy blue, honking his horn under Mrs. Slocum's dress?" she said with a grin over her shoulder. 

"Pet, you're not suppose to be noticing that sort of thing," he scolded, moving onto the other foot. "Virgin eyes and all that rot." 

"I bet you'd fancy a little romp with Ms. Brown," Willow said in a very good imitation of Mrs. Slocum's British accent. "Or are you more _into_  Mr. Humphries?" 

Spike closed his eyes and groaned, stilling his hands on her foot. "That was bloody awful, pet." 

"Hey, get back to work, Sexy Knickers," Willow commanded, wiggling her foot in his hand. He arched his brow at her name calling. "What? You can call me ‘pet', ‘luv', ‘ducks,' and ‘kitten' but I can't call you ‘Sexy Knickers'?" 

"Not if you want to live to see tomorrow," he replied. 

"Sexy Knickers, Sexy Knickers, Sexy Knickers," she teased in a sing song voice. 

Spike growled playfully and bit lightly on the side of her foot. Willow squealed as it tickled, twisting her body to grab the top of his knee in retaliation. He let go of her foot, scrambling to get away from her strong fingers tickling him, sitting on the other bed. 

Willow gave him a naughty grin, then pounced across the open space between the two beds, tackling him. She started tickling his ribs, taunting him the whole while. "Sexy Knickers is ticklish, Sexy Knickers is ticklish." 

Spike was laughing so hard, it hurt as he fought to grab her wrists. Finally, he was able to latch onto them and he yanked her down on top of him, rolling so she was beneath him, while raising her hands above her head in a parody of the food fight scene in the kitchen weeks ago. The were face to face, scant inches apart, both still laughing until they realized at the same time how close they were. 

"You are a wonder," Spike whispered, staring into her green eyes. 

Willow was breathing heavily, her heart hammering in her chest from the play and now from how close he was. *Is he going to kiss me?* she asked herself, not sure if it she was hopeful or not. 

*Should I kiss her?* Spike asked himself, unsure if it would be a good idea. He really wanted to. *But if I do, I may ruin the best friendship I've had in a bloody long time.* 

"Spike?" Willow breathed questioningly, searching his eyes for what he was going to do. Her own eyes widened as he brought his face closer to hers. *Eep!* 

Spike grinned as he rested his forehead against hers so they were looking at each other cross eyed. "So, where's this tattoo I heard you got?" 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XXXVII - Sexy Knickers

 

 

Spike's question diffused the slight tension between the two and he rolled to lay next to her on the bed. He turned his head to the television. "We're missing the show." 

Willow rolled onto her side to look over him at the TV, glad for the distraction away from what just did not occur. "This is the Big Brother episode," she noted. 

"I read that book," Spike said, folding his hands across his stomach as he watched. "Took me a bloody long time, too." 

"How long is ‘bloody long'?" Willow asked teasingly. 

He looked over at her and rolled his eyes. "On that note," he said, pushing himself up. "I think we should get some sleep. I don't fancy a grumpy Witch to accompany me tomorrow." 

"Afraid I'll turn you into a mouse?" 

"You bet your sweet bippy," he replied, crossing to his own bed. Willow laughed as she crawled under the covers, switching off the light. He used the remote to turn of the television, then repeated her actions. "Goodnight, kitten." 

"Goodnight, Sexy Knickers," Willow said, glancing over at the window to make sure the heavy curtains were closed completely. 

"You're not going to drop that idiotic nickname any time soon, are you?" 

"Nope." 

Spike sighed. "Didn't think so." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XXXVIII - No Reversing

 

 

"How am I suppose to drive the car if I can't see out the windows?" Willow asked in a panicked voice the next morning as they stood in the hotel lobby near the doors. There was a cement overhang in front of the hotel, but no valet service, so Willow was the one who had to retrieve the car. 

"You'll do fine, kitten," Spike said, handing her the keys. "I didn't park near anyone, and all you have to do is drive forward. No reversing required." 

"But what if I nick someone's car? Or run over those planters? Or crash into something? Or someone?" 

"Willow," he said, putting both hands on her green sweater clad shoulders. He waited until she looked up at him. "You'll do fine."

"Right. Fine," she repeated, nodding but not losing her worried look. "Here I go." 

"My poor car," Spike muttered under his breath as she walked out the doors. He lit up a cigarette, glad he could smoke in the lobby. If he didn't do something with his hands, he might rip someone's head off in nervousness and he promised Willow not to kill anyone at the hotel. 

Hearing the familiar hum of the engine, he smiled in relief as his 1959 DeSoto pulled up to the doors. Quickly exiting the building, he skirted around to the driver's side, avoiding the sun, and climbed in. He looked over at Willow who had slid to the passenger seat. "What did I tell you, pet? Piece of cake." 

Willow grinned, noting as he quickly inhaled on the cigarette after his statement. "You weren't nervous, were you?" 

"Me?" Spike asked as he put the car in drive. "No, I trust you." He took another puff. 

"I can tell," she said with a giggle. She reached forward and flipped on the radio. 

They arrived at the convention center a short while later, disappearing into the underground parking garage. Emerging into the already crowded hall, the two friends wandered to where they left off the previous day. 

Several hours later, Willow plopped down next to Spike on a bench, opening her vendor made sandwich. "Are we having fun yet?" she asked with a grin before biting into her lunch. 

"Dead cert," Spike replied, leaning back and resting one foot on the opposite knee. "Too bad we have to leave in a few hours so you don't do that pumpkin thing." 

"You just think you're so funny," she said, tossing her wadded up sandwich wrapper at him 

"Oh, I know I am," he retorted, throwing it right back. She rolled her eyes and took another bite of her sandwich. "Do you know what's coming up on Wednesday?" 

"What?" 

"Fireworks," Spike said excitedly. He may not be an American, but he loved Independence Day. It was the perfect excuse to blow things up. "Want to go light some up with me?" 

"I'd love to," Willow replied. "But I can't. I'm going to the Sunnydale Fourth of July Fest at the park with everyone. Well, not Oz, ‘cuz he already left." Spike pouted, making her giggle. "We'll do something on Thursday instead." 

"Not as much fun," he said, crossing his arms over his chest, sulking. 

She rolled her eyes yet again and stood, puling him up with her. "Come on, you big baby. Let's go finish this place." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XXXIX - Phone Call

 

 

Ring. 

"Hello?" 

"Hello, ducks." 

"Hey, Sexy Knickers." 

Growl. 

Giggle. "What's up?" 

"The ceiling." 

"You're pathetic." 

"I know." 

"Are you bored again." 

"Yes." 

"I just saw you yesterday." 

"So?" 

"Spike-" 

"Want to come over and play?" 

"I can't. Going to the mall with Buffy." 

"Bugger." 

"No, Buffy." Giggle. 

Groan. "Now it's you who's pathetic." 

"Learned from the best." 

"You're so bloody funny, pet." 

"I try." 

Honk. 

"Spike, I have to go." 

"Fine." Sigh. "Leave me all by my lonesome." 

"Goodbye, Spike." 

"Bye, luv." 

Click. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XL - Fourth of July

 

 

Wednesday brought clear skies and perfect weather for the residents of Sunnydale. Kids ran under sprinklers, fathers fired up the barbeques, teens let off bottle rockets all in celebration of their country's Independence Day. 

Willow tucked her plain white tank top into her green cut-off shorts that ended mid-thigh, quite frayed from frequent wear. Her hair pulled back into a french braid, she laced up her green sneakers, then grabbed her sunglasses and backpack. 

With a happy skip, she emerged from her house into the hot California sun. Pausing to look up into the cloudless sky, she turned and headed for Xander's house. 

"Willster," Xander greeted, meeting her on the street in front of his house. His baggy red shorts and blue tank top a perfect combination for the festive day. "You're looking quite cool." 

Swinging his bag over his shoulder, the two continued on to Buffy's house where they were meeting everyone else except Angel, who was to join them after sunset. "Did you remember the frisbee?" Willow asked. 

"And the football and the water balloons," Xander replied with a grin. 

"No, no, no," she said quickly. "No water balloons in this white shirt!" 

"But that's half the fun," he replied. 

Willow hit him on the arm. "No water balloons." 

Xander sighed dramatically. "Fine, no water balloons." 

They arrived at Buffy's to see Joyce and Giles, both dressed in cool, summer clothes, loading blankets and lawn chairs into the back of the Summers' vehicle. "Hi Giles, hi Mrs. Summers." 

"Hello you two," Joyce greeted. "Buffy and Faith are inside getting the cooler packed." 

"I think that would require my assistance," Xander said, quickly heading for the front door. 

Willow smiled. "I hope we have enough food." 

"I brought extra," Joyce said conspiratorially, pointing to a cooler already in the trunk. 

"Faith, just shut up and carry your end," Buffy said as she emerged with the brunette Slayer from the house, carrying a huge cooler. 

"Chill, B," Faith said. "I'm just saying in those black shorts, the hotties will be all over you like you were a bitch in heat." 

Buffy groaned and looked at Willow for help. Willow took in her best friend's super-short black shorts and matching spaghetti tank top. She felt frumpy next to the blond. "Don't look at me, Buffy. I'm not a guy." 

"You look fine, honey," Joyce said, watching as they added the cooler to the trunk. She looked at Faith, who was dressed in black cut offs and white sports bra. "You both do." 

"Thanks, mom," Buffy said. She looped her arm around Willow's shoulder to lead her into the house. "Are we all set for some serious fun?" 

"I am," Willow replied. "I have my new computer book and my spell book and..." She took in Buffy's exasperated sigh and giggled. "Yes, I'm all for fun. No books. Just friends, food and football." 

"Don't forget frisbee and fireworks," Xander added, coming out of the kitchen eating a bag of chips. 

"We're being alliterate," Willow said with a bounce and grin. 

"Hey, I can read," Xander protested. 

"Not  _i_ -lliterate,  _a_ -lliterate. It means..." 

"School's out, Will," Buffy interrupted. "Please don't make me learn something." Willow made a face at her friend, who burst into giggles. 

"We're leaving!" Joyce called from outside. Buffy grabbed her bag and pushed her sunglasses on her nose before following Willow and Xander out, locking the door behind her. 

The group of six arrived at the already crowded park a short while later. Splitting up the trunk load of stuff, they picked a fairly nice spot and set up. Joyce and Giles disappeared to wander the arts and crafts tables, while Xander immediately dug into the food. 

"Hey, red, that's a great tat," Faith commented from behind Willow. "When did ya get it?" 

"Saturday," Willow answered over her shoulder. 

Xander and Buffy both looked in surprise at Willow. "But I thought you went to that computer convention on Saturday," Buffy said. 

"I did," Willow replied. "I also decided to get a tattoo while I was there." 

"Let's see this permanent disfiguration," Xander said, crawling closer to her. Willow turned her back to him and tilted her head forward slightly. On the back of her neck below the hairline was a small cartoon bookworm wearing glasses with a book under his arm. Upon closer examination, Xander could see a pentagram on the cover of the book and..."He has fangs!" 

"What?!" Buffy exclaimed, shoving Xander out of the way to take a closer look. After seeing it, she sank back on her heels. "Geez, Will. I never figured you to get a tattoo. Especially a vampire bookworm." 

"Well, I wanted something that sort of represented my life and when I saw the bookworm, I knew what I wanted. I had James - he was the artist - add the pentagram and the fangs, ‘cuz I like knowledge, I'm a Wicca and vampires are...well, a big part, too." 

"I think it's great," Faith piped in. 

"So says the woman with five of them," Xander said. 

"Why there, Willow?" Buffy asked. 

"Two reasons. I can hide it with my hair and that area is the least painful place to get one," Willow answered. 

"Oh," Buffy said, then shrugged. "It'll take some getting used to, but it's cute." 

Willow looked over at Xander expectantly. "Fine, it's a great tattoo," he sighed dramatically, flopping back on the blanket. Willow levitated the open bag of chips and dumped some over him. "Hey!" 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XLI - Football

 

 

The electric hurricane lamps were set out intermittently through the park, each brought and lit by the many families scattered around as the sun set, waiting for the fireworks to begin at ten - two hours later. 

Willow caught the football and began running, trying to evade Xander in their game. She wove between blankets and around kids playing together towards the made up goal line. 

With a squeal out of the red head, Xander grabbed her around the waist, spinning her in circles. "Got ya!" 

"Put me down," she laughed, kicking her feet. 

"Not until you say the magic word," he said. 

"And what's the magic word, Xander?" Angel asked, coming up to them out of the crowd. 

"Deadboy," Xander said, grabbing Willow's arm and making her wave at the vampire. 

"Hi Angel," Willow giggled as Xander set her back on her feet. 

"Looks like you guys are having fun," Angel commented. The trio turned and began walking back towards the others. 

"Angel!" Buffy exclaimed, bouncing over to them with Faith in tow. "You're here." 

"Of course," Angel said to her. "You asked me to come." 

Faith snorted, Xander pretended to gag and Willow held back her laughter. Buffy glared at them, then turned her attention back to Angel. "Come say hi to mom and Giles, then you can do a sweep with Faith and me." 

"Weatherly Park on the Fourth of July," Xander said as the group continued on to where they chose to set the blanket. "Can we say all you can eat buffet?" 

"That's why we're going to patrol, nimrod," Faith said. 

"H-Hello, Angel," Giles greeted, cutting off any comebacks from Xander. 

"Hello, Rupert, Joyce," Angel said to the two in the lawn chairs. "Enjoying yourselves?" 

"Very much so," Joyce replied. 

"We're gonna sweep the park, Giles," Buffy said, picking up her small shoulder bag and swinging it over her shoulder. 

"Be careful," Joyce told her as the three walked away. 

"We will," Buffy called over her shoulder. 

Willow and Xander looked at each other and grinned. "Go long, Wills," Xander instructed, taking the football from her. 

Willow took off once again, dodging blankets and people before turning to catch the ball as it sailed to her. With an exhilarated laugh for accomplishing something so fun and summery, she pulled back her arm and threw the ball back to her oldest friend, using a bit of magick to assist her. 

She didn't get to see if Xander caught it because a group of people crossed her view. One of them stopped directly in front of her, presenting her with a perfect view of the back of his blue jeans, dark grey T-shirt and an old, well-worn, backwards Dodger's cap. 

"Um, excuse me," Willow said to his back. 

"You have a great arm, kitten." 

"Spike," she said with genuine happiness in her voice. "I didn't know you were going to be here." 

Spike turned to face her, a smile on his lips. "And miss all this?" he asked, gesturing to the screaming children that ran by them. 

Willow looked past his arm and saw Xander searching for her "Hold that thought," she said to Spike, stepping around him to wave her arms at Xander. 

Xander nodded and brought his arm back, throwing her the ball. She was about to catch it when Spike snaked his hands out and grabbed it out of the air just in front of her chest. "Hey!" 

Spike snickered near her ear, then took off running, ball in his arms. Willow spun on her heel and went after him. "You give me that ball back, Spike!" 

He looked over his shoulder at her. "Make me," he called back. 

She stopped running with a wicked grin on her face. She watched as Spike tripped over a cooler that suddenly appeared in his path, having been moved quickly by her magick from a nearby blanket. 

She jogged up to the fallen vampire, who peered at her with a combination of laughter and mock anger. "You cheated," he complained.

"Yup," Willow agreed, bending to snatch the ball out of his hands. 

Spike pushed himself to his feet. "Want to go for a walk, pet?" 

"Sure," Willow said. "Just let me give this back to Xander." 

He walked with her until the brunette teen came into sight, then told her he'd wait there. Willow continued on, tossing the ball at Xander as she came up to him. "Who's that?" Xander asked, looking past her to where Spike stood waiting, but not recognizing him. 

"That's, uh...Billy," Willow replied, remembering what she told Buffy. "We're gonna go for a walk." 

"Do you think that's a good idea? It's buffet hour and he doesn't have the Xander seal of approval," he said. 

"I'll be back before the fireworks," she said in reply, turning and walking away with a smile. 

"Where's Willow going?" Buffy asked, coming up behind Xander with Angel and Faith. They watched as the red head joined the person in jeans and a T-shirt. 

"Billy," Xander answered, watching his best friend laugh at something, then walk off with him. 

"Think we should follow?" Angel asked, wondering why the person with Willow seemed familiar. 

"Nah," Buffy said. "Willow said he passed the bad guy test. We'll grill her when she comes back." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XLII- A Sheep In Wolf's Clothing

 

 

"What did you do today?" Willow asked as the two friends walked slowly through the park. 

"Tried to sleep, but that lasted only about two hours," Spike replied, smacking his hands against an overhanging branch as they passed under it. "Tried to ring you, but you weren't home." 

"I was here," she said, ignoring his fake glare. "Can't you tell by my sunburnt nose?" 

"So that's why it's pink," he said. "And I thought you were trying out for the job as Rudolph." 

Willow smacked his arm. "Just for that, I won't show you the tattoo." 

"You mean I actually get to see it?" Spike asked incredulously, stopping. 

She rolled her eyes and turned her back to him. "See?" she said, pointing to the back of her neck.

Spike bent closer to her, moving some stray, red hairs off her neck. A slow smile spread across his face when he saw it. "Fangs, pet?" 

"Well, I wanted to have something that represented my life," Willow began, preparing to repeat the same story she told earlier. 

"Fangs for the vampires, pentagram for your witchy-ness, bookworm for your nerdy-ness," Spike said, nodding his head. Willow's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Too bad you couldn't put a computer mouse or something like that, too." 

"You-you-you got what I did," Willow stammered. "You got it right. That's exactly right." 

He gave her a half-smirk, then continued walking. "You know what I would get if tattoos would work on vampires, kitten?" 

Willow snapped out of her amazement at his question. "Let me think," she told him, studying his profile as they walked. If he knew her that well already, perhaps she knew him better than she thought, too. Then her mind clicked on what she had seen close to a month ago. "A violet. Just below your elbow on your inner arm, I'd bet." 

It was Spike's turn to be surprised. "You got it bloody perfect in one guess. I would have sworn you would say a railroad spike or something to do with blood and guts, my favorite combinations." 

"Spike, you're not much more than a sheep in wolf's clothing," Willow told him. She giggled at his expression. "I mean that in a good way. You're sweet, and nice, and-and considerate, and caring, and some other things that I can't think of right now. But you're all of them." 

He stopped walking suddenly. Willow halted and turned to look at him a step later. She was going to ask him what was wrong when she found herself being engulfed into a hug. "No one has ever said that to me before," he whispered. 

"Well, that's probably because you kill them before they get the chance," she pointed out, enjoying the hug. He chuckled and it rumbled under her cheek on his chest. 

"Come on, let's finish our walk," Spike said, releasing her, then taking her hand in his. "Got to get you back to your chums in time for the fireworks." 

"Maybe I can sneak away and watch them with you," Willow said thoughtfully as they continued on their way. "But then Buffy will really want details, and I'm not that good under pressure. I tend to spaz." 

"But I'd wager you'd look cute doing it," he complimented.

"See, there you go, being sweet again," she said. "Big bad vampire, my foot." 

Spike laughed. "Whatever you say, ducks." 

"Then I say last one to that tree has to sing a song from  _Sound of Music_. Go!" Willow was already off running before the words even finished coming from her mouth. She kicked up the speed, as if it were a real vampire chasing her, not just Spike. 

Spike was surprised, but he took chase within moments. He had almost managed to pass her when a little kid darted in front of him and he had to do some serious maneuvering in order not to fall over him. But he had lost his edge and the hacker beat him by inches. 

"I win! I win!" Willow exclaimed, bouncing on her feet. "Now you got to sing. Now you got to sing." 

"Since when did you become such a tot? Spike asked, watching her. 

"Since I won, now pay up," she demanded. 

Spike sighed and leaned back against the tree, folding his arms over his chest. "What do I have to sing again?" 

"Something from the  _Sound of Music_ ," Willow replied. 

"Why'd you have to pick that bloody picture," he grumbled, scrambling for one of the songs lodged deep in his brain somewhere. 

"Because I know you've probably seen it and it was the first thing that came to my mind," she said. "You see everything." 

"That I do, ducks," he said. "Alright, I have two. Pick one so I can serenade you and then go kill something to rid myself of the fluffy bunnies." 

Willow giggled. "‘Fluffy bunnies?'" 

"A or B, Willow." 

"Um...A," she replied. 

"Laugh and I'll tie you up and tickle your feet with a feather for an hour," Spike threatened her. She rolled her eyes, then sat on the ground by his feet, smiling up at him. Deciding to join her, he sat and leaned back against the tree again. 

Closing his eyes, he brought forth a tune in his mind from the movie he'd actually watched each time it was on PBS. Granted, it was usually Julie Andrews who sang the song, but the words could be sung by anyone. "Perhaps I had a wicked childhood. Perhaps I had a miserable youth. But somewhere in my wicked, miserable past, there must have been a moment of truth." 

Willow grinned. She expected perhaps ‘The Lonely Goathearder' or ‘Edleweis.' Not what he was quietly singing. "For here you are standing there loving me, whether or not you should. So somewhere in my youth or childhood I must have done something good." 

*He's really got a good voice,* she thought as he continued. *I barely got a glimpse of it last weekend.* "Nothing comes from nothing. Nothing ever could. So somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good." 

Willow looked over to her left to see a handful of children standing there, no older than six, listening. She patted the ground next to her and they came over. "For here you are standing there loving me, whether or not you should. So somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good. Nothing comes from nothing. Nothing ever could. So somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something. Something good." 

One of the little girls sitting closest whispered to her, "‘Nother one." 

"Spike, do you have any other songs you can sing?" Willow asked, keeping the hushed area that seemed to surround them. "Something similar to that one?" 

"Sure, luv," Spike replied, not bothering to open his eyes. He thought for a moment, then started singing again. "Early each day to the steps of St. Paul's the little old bird woman comes. In her own special way to the people she calls ‘come buy my bags full of crumbs. Come feed the little birds, show them you care and you'll be glad if you do. The young ones are hungry, their nests are so bare. All it takes is tuppence from you.'" 

More children came over, curious as to what the others were doing. "Feed the birds, tuppence a bag. Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag. Feed the birds, that's what she cries while overhead her birds fill the skies. All around the cathedral, the saints and apostles look down as she sells her wares. Although you can't see it, you know they are smiling each time someone shows that he cares." 

Willow smiled at the group surrounding her and Spike. *He's like the pied piper, only in a good way,* she thought as the song wound down. "Though her words are simple and few. Listen, listen, she's calling to you. Feed the birds, tuppence a bag. Tuppence, tuppence, tuppence a bag." 

Spike opened his eyes to smile at Willow when he saw all sorts of children sitting in front of him. His gaze widened in surprise and the red head shrugged her shoulders. "Do another," one of the little boys said. 

The hacker covered her grin. "Yeah, Spike, do another," she prompted. Suddenly, the other kids picked up her words. "Yeah, Spike, ‘nother," various voices repeated. 

He groaned and thumped his head against the tree. *Why me?* he thought, digging in his brain for a song. He sat up straighter and leaned forward slightly, arms resting on his knees. He lowered his voice and looked at each of the small faces mysteriously. "Oh I come from a land, from a faraway place where the caravan camels roam. Where they cut off your ear if they don't like your face. It's barbaric, but hey, it's home. When the wind's from the east and the suns' from the west and the sand in the glass is right. Come on down, stop on by, hop a carpet and fly to another Arabian night." 

Willow made a face at him for choice of song, but he ignored her, keeping the song in a lower key than normal. "Arabian nights, like Arabian days. More often than not are hotter than hot in a lot of good ways. Arabian nights, ‘neath Arabian moons. A fool off his guard could fall and fall hard out there on the dunes." 

The kids asked for another then another song as Spike got into it. Willow was laughing as she prompted them to join in the various Disney tunes he sang. He switched from quiet songs to upbeat ones to those in between, gesturing or conducting. Soon, there were at least thirty children surrounding the friends and even a few parents on the outskirts with the younger ones. 

Suddenly, there was a loud sonic boom, making everyone jump. Then, the first fireworks filled the sky. The parents collected there children and, with a smile for Spike, headed back to their families. Willow stood as he did, brushing off the back of her shorts. Her own smile was huge as she looked up at him. 

With an echoing grin, Spike put his arm around her shoulder and started walking her back to her friends, their heads looking up to the sky when it exploded in light. All the electronic hurricane lamps had been shut off, bathing the park in a pleasant darkness. Willow saw Buffy and Angel first, the vampire leaning back against a nearby tree with the Slayer leaning back against his chest, his chin resting on top of her hair. "They're so much in love, and it's so sad," she said quietly to Spike. 

"That it is, kitten," Spike replied, bringing her to a halt. "I better let you go the rest of the way yourself. Don't want the Slayer to have to move." 

"I'm glad you came," Willow told him as he removed his arm from around her shoulder. 

"I'm glad I came, too," he said, tapping her nose with his finger. "Give us a bell tomorrow?" 

"I will," she replied. "Have a good night, Spike." 

Spike winked at her, then turned and disappeared into the darkness. 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XLIII - Fireworks

 

 

Willow sat on the blanket leaning back on her hands, legs stretched in front of her, head back as she watched the fireworks light up the sky. 

Reds, golds, blues, greens in many star burst and sparkly patterns created ooh's and ah's from the families in the park. Smiles stretch across faces, parents pointed to the sky while speaking to their children, lovers snuggled together, long married couples held hands. 

And Spike sat nearby, watching her watch the fireworks, absently pulling at the grass. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XLIV - Winnie, the Pooh

 

 

"Ok, are you ready?" 

"Yes." 

"Begin." 

Willow looked at the sheet in front of her as Spike read the passage aloud, circling the words he missed. They had started the tests earlier that day and had gradually progressed from simple three letter word passages to more complex stories. The only break they took was for lunch, which was extremely hard on the vampire who alternated between sitting, pacing and smoking as they worked. 

"...the ends des-destroyed for the ground were fre-...were chad in a pit of glowering coals. Because there were no prospering tremors back then as we know them this char-ring vap-vapor- vaporing mouse and seed the surefire," Spike read. He put the page down and looked over at Willow, who was tapping the end of her pen against her lips. 

At first, Spike didn't think he was going to like having her tutor him. The idea, when she first brought it up over a month ago, had sounded fine. However, when she suggested it that morning on the phone, he'd been apprehensive. Now, he didn't mind at all, although it was hard to sit still for so long. Of course, it had nothing to do with the fact that he had spent the day with her in his kitchen or the night before watching her at the park. Not at all. 

"That's the last one," Willow said, piling the xeroxed test papers together. "Now I need to go through the book, then we'll start officially." 

"We're done?" Spike asked hopefully. 

"We're done." 

He was on his feet immediately, grabbing her hand and pulling her up, as well. He grabbed his cigarettes from off the table, then led her out the front door into the night. He didn't stop his fast pace until they were several blocks from the house, entering a playground. 

"I take it you needed to get out of the house," Willow said with a laugh as he dropped her hand and lit up a cigarette. He nodded, inhaling the smoke, then jumped up on a low, wooden beam. "Well, I think you suppressed your Tigger-ness quite well." 

"Tigger-ness?" Spike asked. 

"You know, Tigger. From Winnie, the Pooh," she explained. He nodded again, jumping off the end of the beam and running up the slide. She rolled her eyes at him as he slid down it on his feet like a skier. "Spike, you're silly." 

Spike gave her a wicked grin. "Among other things." 

She snorted, walking over to the swings. With a push, she stood on the plastic seat, swinging like she and Xander dared each other to do when they were kids. Her red hair flew behind her with each forward movement and she inhaled the crisp, night air, happy to be outside after being cooped up all day. 

Spike crushed out his cigarette and rolled the pack in the sleeve of his T-shirt. He watched Willow swing for a moment, a happy smile on his face before he rounded behind her and gave her a push. 

"Spike!" Willow shouted as she swung higher. The shout wasn't because of the push itself, but the fact that he touched her backside in order to do it, seeing as how she was standing on the swing. 

He stopped pushing and came back in front of her, cocking his head to one side. "You know, ducks, I don't think that's how you're suppose to swing." 

"Says who? The Sunnydale Swing Police?" Willow said. 

Spike rolled his eyes at her, then turned and surveyed the area surrounding the playground. He held up a hand to her and she let herself slow down as he silently made his way towards the bushes lining one side of the play area. Heart pounding in her chest, she waited. 

"Bloody hell," Spike swore when he caught sight of Buffy fighting a vampire just beyond the bushes near the jogging path through the park. He turned and hurried back over to Willow. "It's the Slayer." 

"I guess we'd better skedaddle then," Willow said, already heading back the way they came. She looked up at him with a mischievous grin. "Where's daddle? And is it a black diamond run?" 

He burst out laughing as they left the park, heading back for his house. "Cor, pet, I think that you're the silly one." 

"That's me, the silly pet," she agreed. "Arf, arf." 

"Oh bother," he sighed, mimicking a close to perfect Winnie, the Pooh. 

Willow giggled and linked her arm with his. "Now what?" 

"As long as it doesn't require sitting, I'm game for anything," Spike replied. 

She thought for a minute, then a slow smile crossed her face. "I have the perfect activity." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XLV - Brilliant Ideas

 

 

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Spike said as he tied the laces. 

"You could have said no at anytime," Willow told him as she stood. "But you didn't, now you're stuck. Like a pig." She paused and frowned. "What does a pig get stuck in anyway? I thought with all that mud, they'd be slippery." 

Spike rolled his eyes and carefully stood. When he didn't immediately fall, he breathed out a sigh of relief...which cause him to loose his footing and plop back onto the bench. 

Willow giggled and held out her hand. "Does the big, bad vampire need some help?" 

He growled at her, knocking her hand away and stood again. He took a few, tentative steps past her, latching onto the waist high wall. "Next time you get any brilliant ideas, kitten, remind me to kill you." 

"You're the one who said you didn't want to do anything that required sitting," she pointed out. 

"But I don't know how to bloody roller skate!" 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XLVI - Big Evil Calling

 

 

Several hours and bumps and bruises later, the two friends returned their rented skates amidst the chaos of parents and children getting ready to leave the now closed rink. "Come on, admit it, Sexy Knickers. You had fun," Willow said as she got her shoes in exchange for the skates. 

"If you call falling on your arse and having annoying little snots laugh at you fun, then I had a riot,"Spike replied, grasping onto his Doc Martens as if they were a lifeline. 

Willow laughed as they moved away from the rental counter. "But you looked so cute when you fall on your butt." 

He growled at her, bending to put on his shoes. "Next time, I pick the bloody activity."

"Well, it can't be tomorrow because I'm going to the Bronze with Buffy and Xander for fifties night," she told him, tying her sneakers. "But I'm free Saturday, unless big evil comes calling." 

"Say you're not interested and hang up on them, luv," Spike said with a smirk. "Those telemarketers can keep you on the line for hours." 

"Oh brother," Willow replied, shaking her head in pity. "That was sad." 

"That's what happens from spending too much time with you," he teased as he threw his arm over her shoulder and led her to the door. "You lose all capacity to tell good jokes." 

She swatted him. "Not funny." 

"Has your chum Xander ever told a good joke?" Spike asked innocently. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XLVII - Bance?

 

 

"Hey, Buffster," Xander greeted as the blond joined the table. Fifties music was playing loudly in the Bronze and teens dressed in various fashions from the times were bopping to the beat. 

"Guys, you'll never believe what I heard," Buffy said without returning the greeting. She looked at Xander, then Willow with an amused smile on her face. "Someone was entertaining kids by singing at the park on Wednesday night and the sources say it was Spike!" 

Willow almost choked on her drink and she started coughing. Xander rubbed her back. "Spike and singing? It doesn't sound like a match." 

"I know, that's what I thought," Buffy replied. "But the vampire I was pounding on tried to trade that bit of info for his life. I didn't believe him, though, because if Spike were back in town, everyone would know it. That bleached doofus has a problem staying out of trouble." 

"What if he is back?" Willow asked worriedly after her choking fit was done. "And he wasn't causing trouble. Would you still stake him? Even if he didn't do anything?" 

"Will, he's a vampire - a bad one, at that. If he was back, it would only be to make a mess of my life. I most definitely would stake him," Buffy replied. 

"But what if he was good?" Willow persisted. "And he didn't cause trouble? Or-or create more vampires? Or...or..." 

"It's the Slayer's super-secret sacred duty to slay," Xander said. "Slaying Spike would be a part of the Slayer's super-secret sacred duty." 

"You've been watching the Cartoon Network again, haven't you, Xand?" Buffy said. 

"All day yesterday," Xander replied proudly. "My red headed friend here abandoned me." 

"Really?" Buffy said, arching an eyebrow at Willow. "And where were you at all day, hmm?" 

"Tutoring," Willow answered. It was the truth. 

"In the middle of the summer?" Buffy asked incredulously. 

"He's special," Willow said, then frowned. "Well, not special in the riding the special bus way. Special in the...special way." 

"And this, ladies and gentlemen, was one of the top students of the graduating class of 1999," Xander said in an emcee voice. A new song came on, saving Willow, and Buffy dragged her two best friends to the dance floor, their fifties attire blending with the others. 

Several songs later, they laughingly made their way back to the table. "Ladies, drinks?" Xander asked after checking the two empty cups on the table. 

"Mountain Dew," Buffy replied. 

Willow shook her head no. "Hey, is Angel coming?" she asked as Xander walked away. 

"I mentioned it, but I don't know if he'll show," Buffy replied, looking around the club. "I hope so, considering I was able to stay here for the summer instead of going to dad's so I could spend time with him before he moves to LA." 

"LA, ugh," Willow commented. "Don't remind me about moving there." 

"You're not moving, Will, you're just going to school there," she told the hacker. 

"I know," Willow sighed. "I'm having Hellmouth sickness. Like homesickness, but with more research involved." 

"Hey, Will, this was left for you at the counter," Xander said as he put the drinks on the table. He handed her a folded napkin with her first name poorly scrawled across it. 

Willow opened the note. * _bance? S_ ,* she read the horrid printing to herself. *Bance? What...oh!* She realized who it was from, filing away the common dyslexic error, and started looking around the club. 

"Who's it from?" Buffy asked, taking a sip of her soda.

"Sp-er, Billy," Willow replied. 

"Ooh, Billy," Buffy and Xander said at the same time in sing song voices. 

Willow blushed. "Guys-" 

"So, when are we going to meet your mystery friend," Buffy asked. 

*Not in this lifetime,* Willow thought. "He's...shy." *Right, shy. Just like Cordelia is nice.* 

A Chubby Checker song started and Xander jumped to his feet. "I hear the music calling." 

"You guys go ahead," Willow said as Buffy stood. 

"Come on, Xander," Buffy said. "I think someone wants to find her  _friend_." 

Willow blushed again, tucking her hair behind her ears. They were not gone more than thirty seconds when she heard a deep, familiar voice in her ear. "Dance, pet?" 

She turned on the stool, a worried look on her face. "Now? With Buffy and Xander right over there? You could be staked. Buffy would stake you." 

Spike chuckled. "The Slayer won't do anything, luv," he told her. He gestured to his white t- shirt, cuffed blue jeans and very old Converse All-Stars. There was a pack of cigarettes rolled in his sleeve and he was wearing the Dodger's cap backwards again. "I doubt she'd recognize me." 

Before Willow could protest again, he grabbed her hand and pulled her off the stool. They wove their way around the crowd away from Buffy and Xander, then he snaked his arm around her waist, putting her into the classic dance position. Forced to follow his lead, Willow decided to cheat after the fourth stumble. She stopped him, then climbed on his feet. 

Spike laughed, holding the red head closer. "Cor, you're a silly girl." 

"You bet'cha," Willow agreed. "But you have to admit this is much easier." 

"For you, maybe," he replied. "I'm the one with the dead weight on my feet." 

"Live weight," she corrected with a grin. Spike rolled his eyes. "Oh, hey, I think your secret is out." 

"That I like vanilla ice cream?" Spike asked innocently. 

"No, silly," Willow sighed with fake exasperation. "I meant that you're here in Sunnydale. A vampire that Buffy was slaying told her." 

"Did she believe it?" he said, a frown on his face. 

"No. She thinks that if you were in town she'd know because you'd be out causing trouble," she answered. 

"Normally, I would be," he said. "But I have this bloody red headed conscious now that took all my fun away." 

Willow wrinkled her nose at him. "Watch it, Sexy Knickers. Or I'll give you handwriting lessons, too." 

"It's not that bad," Spike protested. Then, after a pause, he asked, "Is it?" 

"On a scale of one to ten, with one being bad, I'd say negative three," she replied, giving him an evil smile. 

"I just can't seem to please some women," he sighed dramatically. "You let them dance on your feet and they insult you." Willow laughed, making his heart constrict. He was getting in way over his head, coming to the Bronze while the Slayer was present, reaffirming his insanity. 

"Spike?" 

"What was that, pet?" Spike asked, snapping out of his thoughts. 

"You went to that place again," Willow told him. "I'm beginning to think you like it there more than in the real world." 

"Ah, but in the real world, I have you," he said, executing a quick spin with her on his feet. He frowned at her. "I don't know if that's a good thing or not." 

"Hey!" Willow exclaimed. Spike laughed, making her heart constrict. She was getting into very deep water, dancing this close to him with Buffy just across the room. But she liked it, a lot. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XLVIII - Going to School

 

 

"Would you like to do something tomorrow, pet?" Spike asked. "Not more learning, but something fun. We have all the time in the world for books." 

"Um, actually, we only have the summer," Willow told him. 

He frowned. "Why?" 

"I'm going to school in LA at the end of August," she replied. 

"Oh," he said, not liking how that bit of news made him feel. "Where at?" 

"UCLA," Willow answered. "I'm looking forward to it, but I'm not." 

"Why's that, luv?" 

"Well, it's school and I really like school. And college will be much more challenging than high school. Not that high school was a breeze, I did have to work. But since I liked that sort of thing, and I spent most of my Friday and Saturday nights at home and alone doing homework, it made school easy," she rambled. "But LA. As in two plus hours from here. As in not on the Hellmouth where I'm needed to be the net girl and research girl and help Buffy stop the nasty things that want to play here." 

Spike gave her a small smile, although he wasn't feeling particularly happy at that moment. "I'm sure that you can still help with that sort of thing over the Internet." 

"Yeah, but it won't be the same," Willow said depressingly. "I won't get to see Buffy and Xander every day. Or Giles. Or the library. I'm really going to miss the library. It's been like a second home to me...well, more like a first home. I don't wanna go." 

*I don't want you to go either, Willow,* he thought. But instead he replied, "Think of all the new things you'll be experiencing and learning instead of what you'll be leaving. And LA isn't  _that_  far away. It's not like you're going off to Oxford for university or somewhere else on the other side of the bloody world." 

"I know. But still...," she trailed off. Then, she added silently, *I'll miss you.* 

"No ‘buts' allowed," Spike told her firmly. "You're going and you're going to like it and that's final." 

"Getting a bit pushy in your old age, aren't you," Willow smiled up at him, shaking off the sad mood. "Next you'll be telling me stories about how when you were my age you walked fifteen miles to school, uphill both ways, in the snow..." 

Spike scowled at her. "I'll have you know that my primary school was less than a street away. It was easy to walk there." 

"And how often did you actually walk there?" 

"Every day," he answered solemnly. Then added with a grin, "Didn't mean that I actually went  _in_  to the schoolhouse." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

IL - He's Mine

 

 

"Oh boy," Willow said, looking past Spike's shoulder to the trio headed their direction. 

"Oh boy what?" Spike inquired, looking down at her. 

"Buffy and-and Xander and Angel at ten...no eleven...coming this way!" 

"Then I guess I'd better scoot," he told her as she stepped off his feet. "I'll ring you tomorrow, kitten." 

"‘K," Willow replied, nervously biting her lip as her friends got closer. "Now go." 

"Methinks you want me to go," Spike teased. The panicked look she gave him made him chuckle. "Alright, pet. I'm gone." 

With that, he quickly slipped away in the opposite directions of the Slayer and her friends. Willow pasted a large, fake smile on her face as the three joined her. "Hi guys! Boy, I'm tired. I think I'll be heading home now." 

"How come Billy ran off?" Buffy asked. 

"He...uh, has to go to work....early. Gotta get his forty winks," Willow replied. 

"So when can we meet this mystery friend of yours?" Xander asked as they headed for the door to the Bronze. "I want to know if I have to get out my machete and go Jason on him." 

"Well, he's busy. Very busy. Does a lot of stuff. During the day. And night. In fact, you'll probably never meet him," she said. Then, mentally she added, *Count on it* 

"Come on, Will. I'm your bestest friend. If you got a hottie, share," Buffy whispered conspiratorially to her. 

"No, he's mine," Willow said fiercely before she could stop herself. Her eyes widened comically as she began to blush bright red. "Um, heh heh. I, er, didn't mean it like that." 

"Uh-huh. Tell me another one, Wills." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

L - Driving That Monstrosity

 

 

"Hello?" 

"Hello, luv." 

"Hey, what are we doing today?" 

"You are going shopping." 

"I am?" 

"You am." 

"Nice grammar. Why am I going shopping?" 

"You need specific clothes for what we're doing tonight." 

"Like..." 

"Just come by and I'll tell you and give you my card." 

"I get to use your credit card?" 

"I'm a looney, yes, I know." 

"I'll be right over...wait. I don't have a car. How do I get to the store?" 

"You can take mine." 

"No, uh-uh, not again. I will not be driving that monstrosity." 

"Hey, I like that car." 

"You're a monster, so it fits." 

"Very funny, kitten. A laugh a minute, you are." 

"Thanks. I know, I'll call Buffy and see if she wants to go to the mall with me." 

"Fine by me, pet. But how are you going to explain having to come by here?" 

"I left something I need. Like, your charge card." 

"Maybe this is a bloody mistake." 

"Too late now. I'll be over soon. Bye." 

"Bye." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LI - Hearing Is Second To Go

 

 

Joyce was nice enough to drive the girls to wherever they needed to go, after serious begging from her daughter. She pulled up in the drive of a nice, ranch home and Willow hopped out. "Be right back," she said, then scampered towards the front door. 

"Who lives here?" Joyce asked Buffy. 

"My guess is Billy," Buffy replied, watching as Willow opened the door and went inside without knocking. 

"Who's Billy?" 

"Some friend she's tutoring," she shrugged. "Haven't met him." 

"Are you sure he's...human?" Joyce inquired. 

"Willow says he passed the test," Buffy told her, her eyes roving over the windows. The sun glinted off the glass, preventing her from being able to see past the surface. 

Inside the house, Willow called out to her friend. "Spike? The red headed witch has come to take your credit card!" 

"You don't have to yell, pet," Spike said, emerging from the kitchen. "I'm not deaf." 

"Yeah, but you're old. I've been told that the hearing is second to go," she teased. 

"What's the first?" 

Willow's eyes darted down to the front of his jeans, then back up to his face. "Um..." 

Spike started to laugh, impressed by her courage to make that naughty joke. His shy kitten wasn't quite so timid all the time. "Here," he said, handing her the plastic and a bright yellow flyer. "This is where we're going tonight." 

"Really?" Willow said, eyes skimming the paper. "I've always wanted to try this." 

"You know what to purchase, then?" Spike asked.

"Yeah. I'll have Buffy's mom take us to Fetla's. They'll have everything there," she told him. "I bet Buffy's never been there before. Hunting and fishing stores are not her forte." 

"Wish I could go with you, ducks," Spike said as she turned to go. "But until they come up with SPF one million, I'm stuck." 

Willow giggled. "What time do you want to go?" 

"Why don't you meet me at the armory at eight," he suggested. "That way I'll have time to..." 

"Hunt," Willow finished, giving him a sorrowful look. "Try not to munch someone I like, ok?" She opened the door and stepped out into the sun, turning back to face him again. "See you later." 

"Bye, kitten," Spike said. He sighed as he watched her return to the car from the darkness of the house, the sunlight playing off her fiery hair. At that moment, he was feeling low because of her look. He shut the door and grimaced at his depressing thoughts, venturing back to the kitchen. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LII - The Dangers of Skating

 

 

Willow had an interesting shopping experience at Fetla's with Buffy and her mom. Neither of them had been at the store before, and they couldn't understand why she wanted to go. Even after showing the Slayer the flyer, she only got a puzzled look for her troubles. 

"Why would you want to do this, Wills?" Buffy asked, looking at the bright yellow paper. 

"Because it looks like fun," Willow replied, digging through the racks for pants in her size. 

"Fun," she humphed. "Xander fun, definitely. Me fun, maybe. You fun? Don't see it." 

"I'm not just research gal or ‘net gal, you know," Willow said defensively. "I have other interests. I can be dangerous or daring. I have a tattoo. I went to LA for the weekend by myself with S-er-Billy. I took him roller skating, which was a great danger to all the other skaters." 

"Hey, I'm not going to stop you,"Buffy replied. "I just wondered why, that's all." 

"Because I was asked to go," Willow answered. "Now, help me find a pair in 29/30 before I start to throw things in frustration." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LIII - Hating Waiting

 

 

Spike's brow was netted together as he concentrated. He had been digging around the basement yesterday after he'd gotten bored, which was half an hour after he'd woke up, and found the kit he was meticulously trying to put together. Glue was sticking to his fingers as he dabbed it on the next piece and held it in the correct place to set. 

Waiting was always the worst. He'd go slowly nuts the time between when he got out of bed until the sun set. It was horrible for him when he'd been stuck in the wheelchair, unable to get around easily. But now, his antsy-ness was due more in fact that he'd be seeing Willow that night than wanting to get out of the house. He really liked her company, liked her, and the time between when they saw each other was becoming harder to bear. 

He looked at the picture on the box, then at the model that was in front of him. They looked nothing alike. With a growl, he stood and left the kitchen to go see what was on television. 

He hated waiting. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LIV - Blast Camp

 

 

Willow walked partway to the armory with Buffy, who was starting out on patrol later that night. Her friend couldn't get over the way she looked in the clothing they'd finally found at the store, right down to the heavy boots on her feet. Her red hair was braided tightly against her head and she carried a plain, black ball cap in her hands. Her money and id were in one of the many pockets in the camouflage and she had a grin on her face. 

She was going to play paintball. 

The armory held Blast Camp every Saturday night during the summer, opening up to the public over 18 years of age. Some people brought their own equipment, others rented, then spent the night pummeling each other with high velocity balls of paint. 

Willow grinned at the guard outside the gates as she passed. She joined in the small knot of camouflaged twenty somethings that were heading to the outbuilding that housed the equipment. It also served as a meeting spot where the players rested between games. 

Her eyes darted around the semi-lit open room, looking for Spike. Tables were covered with open boxes, guns, paintball bags, masks and cleaning equipment. Men and women stood or sat, chatting as they prepared for the next outing. All were dressed similarly in fatigues or dark clothing. Frowning, she climbed up on a chair in order to see better. 

"Nice view, kitten?" 

Willow turned and looked down to see Spike grinning at her, holding a box similar to those on the tables. It was painted a funny brown color, had rope handles and a latch with a small padlock on it. She hopped down off the chair with a smile. "Hi!" 

"Follow me," he instructed after winking at her. As he led her through the crowd, Willow studied his own clothing. His fatigues were well-worn and faded, tucked into combat boots that no longer shined. He had on a tight, olive green t-shirt, tucked in and was wearing a no-longer- black, backwards, Marlboro cap to cover his telltale blond hair. Hanging from his hand that carried the box was a camouflage jacket that matched his pants. 

All in all, he made one fine looking military specimen, in her opinion. 

He stopped at a table in the corner with several players sitting at it. "Hello, people," he greeted, plopping the box down. 

"Spike, greetings," a pretty young man greeted. The two clasped wrists in a manly greeting and Willow arched her brow. She quickly took inventory as hellos were exchanged with the others at the table. There was a woman in her mid twenties, average height, with her brownish red hair loose around her face and excited blue eyes. She sat next to a young man about her height, very stocky, wearing a bandana on his head and had ears that stuck out slightly. 

Across from them was another young man around Spike's height, wearing a beret of all things. He had a goatee and looked French as he sat smoking a mini-cigar, peering at her with soft, brown eyes. Next to him sat a tall, gangly fellow with short, dark hair and a lazy eye. She couldn't tell if he was looking at her or not. Finally, her eyes met the pretty boy that first spoke. He was slightly taller than her, with shoulder length, soft blond hair, smooth feminine face and squinting eyes. All of them were wearing fatigues and combat boots or hiking boots. 

"Everyone, this is Willow," Spike introduced her, putting his arm around her shoulder. "Willow, I'd like you to meet Jamie, Deuce, Schu, Joe and Kurt." He pointed around the table in the same order she'd studied them. 

"So you're the reason Spike hasn't been around for a couple of Sats," Kurt said. "Sly dog." 

Willow blushed as the blond vampire responded, "You're just jealous, Catterlin." Kurt gave him a wolfish grin and she noticed his canines were elongated. Eyes widening, she felt her side pocket for the cross she had stuck in there. 

"Better hurry up, Spike," Joe said. "There running out of semis fast." 

"Right, mate," Spike replied, escorting Willow away from the table. They headed for the line at the rental counter, his arm still around her shoulder. 

"Spike, that guy - Kurt. He had fangs," she whispered as they waited. "But he didn't look like you do or Angel. Can you show your fangs without going game face? I thought that wasn't possible. Or am I wrong?" 

"Willow, Kurt's not a vampire," he answered. "He's a Masquerade player." 

"A what?" Willow asked, wrinkling up her nose in confusion.

"He is heavily into role playing that vampire game, The Masquerade," Spike replied. "He makes porcelain teeth for the players. Looks bloody ridiculous, if you ask me." 

"Oh," she said, understanding. "Like AD&D." 

"That's right, pet. Except its a live game," he told her. 

"What about the others? You seem to know them pretty well," Willow said. 

"Joe and Schu are best mates, Jamie is married to Schu and Deuce is Jamie's friend from university. Met them when I first started playing after I got back here in Sunnyhell. Be sure to watch out for Jamie, she's a hellion on the field." 

They were next in line and he spoke up for Willow, getting her a semi-automatic paintball gun, a mask and a case of paintballs for the both of them. They both quickly filled out and signed their waivers and the hacker had to leave her id in exchange for the gun. 

At first, it felt awkward in her hands. She wasn't too sure how to carry it as they made their way back to the table. She finally settled on cradling it in her arms, the face mask dangling from her fingers. Once there, she set both down and tucked some loose strands of hair behind her ears, slightly nervous around the others. She hadn't known that he had other friends, good ones from the easy banter that flew back and forth between them. 

"...Elsie, the flying chicken carcass,"Joe was explaining. "We had Schu go to the back of the barn and throw it over the top while we filmed it, all the while Kurt was narrating about the many uses for dead chickens during the Depression. Mr. Cannon was not happy with our efforts." 

"The only movie I got to be in was the one where Duffy killed me," Jamie said. "It was way cool. He played the song from the Dracula soundtrack, and then slit my throat with fake claws. I had red dye all over me, remember Damon?" 

"Yeah, I had to guard the men's shower while you cleaned up," Deuce replied. "I didn't even peek." 

"Only Elmo gets to peek," Jamie said. "Right Kurt?" 

"I've never envied a stuffed animal before until you stuffed him down your pants," Kurt told her. "Schu, your wife is a cruel woman." 

"I know," Schu replied. "Lucky, aren't I?" 

Willow took a seat as Spike dug through the things in his box. He pulled out a wicked semi- automatic, hopper, two extra paintball carriers, face mask and pipe cleaner. He opened the case of paintballs and began filling the plastic hoppers that were shaped like kidneys. He then filled the extra carriers and hooked them to the belt she didn't know he'd been wearing. When she raised her eyes to his, he gave her a cheery smile, tucking the pipe cleaner in the leg pocket in his pants. 

"So, Willow, how did you meet Spike?" Jamie asked as she rolled her black Saint Joseph's College t-shirt up and tied it in a knot due to the heat. 

"Well, I knew him when he first came here two years ago with Drusilla, but I didn't meet him personally until he kidnaped me to work a love spell," Willow told her. She started to blush again, embarrassed by what she revealed. 

"You're a witch, too?" Jamie said. "Way cool. Merry meet, I'm Saber." 

"Hey, I've spoken to you via Witchware," Willow said. "I'm Red Witch." 

As the girls began talking animatedly about witchcraft, Spike let his gaze rove over Willow. He loved the way the fatigues emphasized the tininess of her waist. She was wearing a black sports bra under a black tank top, having taken off her long sleeve jacket. The tattoo on the back of her neck was clearly visible and he found himself itching to place a kiss over it. He must have made a face, because Schu spoke up. 

"You got it bad, man," he told the vampire, stubbing out his cigar. "Run now before she marries you and makes you scoop the poop, even though that's her job." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LV - Balls

 

 

"Game," a referee called, interrupting the conversations flying around the room. Men and women stood and gathered their guns and masks, heading out of the building towards the man wearing the bright orange shirt. 

"Wonder what we're playing this time?" Joe said as he put the face mask on. 

"I hope football," Schu said, leading the way out, Jamie goosing him as she passed. "Or embassy. We haven't done those in awhile." 

Willow looked worriedly up at Spike. "I don't know how to play," she said, standing as he slid on his jacket. 

"It's simple, kitten," Spike said, gesturing for her to take her things. "We get arm bands from the ref indicating our team, then you shoot at those on the other side. ‘Piece of cake. Piece of crumb cake.'" 

She didn't laugh at his bad quote. "But I don't know how to hold a gun. I never fired one. What if I suck? I could have major suckage. And what if I get hit?" Willow complained. 

"Willow, you'll do fine," he told her. 

They joined the others by the referee, who passed out white and red arm bands. Tying the plastic around her jacket arm, she listened intently to what game they were to be playing. 

"...the most team members in building two at the end of the five minutes, wins," the referee was saying. "Masks down past the gate. As always, if you remove them you will be excluded from Blast Camp for non-compliance with the rules. Check your velocity on the way in." 

He turned and pulled down his own mask, leading the twenty or so players past the gates to the old part of the armory. People stopped and shot off their guns, the paintballs ringing loudly as they hit broken satellite dishes while being tested, the carbon dioxide compressors on the guns thumping rhythmically while being shot. Spike and Willow hung behind, their faces obscured by the plastic masks. 

It was sort of hot under the mask, her breathing fogging the clear eye piece slightly. The thick, stretch band that wrapped around her head held the black cushioning right against her face. She'd bet that she would have a ring around her eyes after the game. While her face mask was painted in camouflage colors, as were most others, her companion's was all black giving him a sinister look. 

They were the last two to use the testing equipment, and Spike took her semi from her and removed the pink tip that covered the end of the barrel. She watched as he rested it on the pad and squeezed the trigger. The needle which told the velocity ran up to two hundred. "Perfect," he said, his voice muffled by the mask. He gave it back to her, then tested his own before they walked quickly to catch up with the others. 

"White behind building three, red behind building one," the referee called in a loud voice. "When the whistle blows, you have thirty seconds to be out from behind them. You may go inside, but remember, no climbing up on anything or you will be asked to leave. If you are hit, raised your hands high and call out ‘hit' loudly, then make your way out of the game area. Be sure to put in your cap back in the barrel. Any questions?" 

"No!" The shouts came back at him, everyone ready to begin play. 

"Then get in position." 

"Oh goddess," Willow said, her heart pounding and her breathing coming in short pants. Her hands were sweating as she followed Spike back behind building three. The vampire was talking to someone in front of him, Jamie she guessed, and she was left to her panicking thoughts. "I can't believe I'm doing this." 

Half the group stood at ready behind the building when the whistle blew. Players suddenly took off running around the side, the sounds of shooting echoing in the night. Her eyes were huge behind the mask as she hurried behind Spike, almost tripping over a branches that littered the ground. 

He popped around the corner of the building and ducked inside, the hacker right behind him. Paintballs were flying by her head, smacking into the wall with loud splats. She squeaked in fright and hunched over, staying under the window against the wall. She watched as Spike trained his gun outside and began firing. 

"Incoming!" Willow heard someone yell, then lots of fire fight at the other end of the building they were in. 

"I'm heading out, Willow," Spike said loudly. She shook her head violently, but he was gone, out the door he'd been firing from. 

Willow raised her gun and peeked out the door. People were running back and forth, dodging ‘bullets' and shooting at each other. Suddenly, her head flew back and her vision disappeared as she was hit. Right in the face mask. 

"Um, hit," she called, standing and raising her hands up as instructed. Of course, she couldn't see anything. She tried to rub the paint off with her sleeve, but all that did was smear it over the entire area. She had no choice but to tilt her head as far back as she could and lift the mask slightly to peer out the bottom. 

Eventually, she managed to make it back to the gates. She capped the gun, then stepped beyond the fence and was able to remove the mask. She was drenched with sweat as she walked back to the building. Collapsing onto a chair next to the empty table, she set the mask and gun down and quickly took off her jacket. 

"Hey, Willow," Jamie said, joining her. "Looks like you got nailed." 

Willow held up the mask. "Right between the eyes," she sighed. "Maybe I shouldn't be here." 

"No way," she said. "This is your first time, right?" 

"Yeah." 

"Then let me give you some advice," Jamie replied. "You need balls to play this game." 

Willow stared at her wide eyed. "Wh-what?" 

"You have to have a ‘fuck it' mentality," she continued. "Don't worry about getting hit, cuz it's gonna happen no matter what. Just charge out there blasting away. Chances are you'll take a bunch out before you get hit. One time, we played ‘storm the hill' and I made it all the way across the open field and halfway up the hill before I bought it." 

"Oh," Willow said. Joe came back with Deuce, both arguing about something, but she was busy thinking about what Jamie had said. Perhaps the other girl was right, she just had to go for it and screw the worrying about getting hit. She had a vampire for a friend, why should a game scare her? 

"Hi, pet," Spike greeted, coming up behind her. She looked up and saw that he had a smear of white paint across his cheek. "Have fun?" 

"I got hit," she told him, holding up her mask. 

"Ouch," he frowned. "It didn't hurt, did it?" 

"No," she replied. "Not at all. I just couldn't see anything." 

"There's some cleaning solution out there," Joe pointed outside. "Doesn't work too well, though." 

"Thanks," Willow told him. She stood and went outside to clean the mask off. 

Spike watched her go, then turned his attention to refilling their hoppers. He frowned, wondering if bringing her was such a good idea. He thought that she would enjoy herself, but she seemed sort of unhappy. He decided they'd play one more game, then see if she wanted to leave. It was early enough that they could still go to the pictures. 

"I think I have a contestant for the worst mark," Deuce said, holding out his arm as Willow returned to the table. There was a semi-bleeding bruise forming the size of a quarter on his forearm. 

"That's nothing," Kurt said. "Last week's was much better." 

"Spike, are you going to join us afterwards for the Taco Hell run?" Schu asked. "Not that you ever win." 

"Perhaps," Spike replied, looking over at Willow. 

"Win what?" Willow asked, arching a brow at him. 

"It's a sadistic game," Jamie told her. "The one with the worst injury from tonight's game gets bought a taco from each person." 

"We're heading out to the beach, later, too," Kurt said. "Duffy and Nel are having a bonfire. I think Gowan and Piz will be there, too." 

"We'll let you know," Spike replied. The referee called out for the start of another game, interrupting further conversation as the gang gathered up their equipment. He stopped the red head from following. "Willow, please tell me if you want to leave at any time." 

"I will, don't worry," Willow said, reaching up to wipe the paint off his cheek. She gave him a small smile, then turned and went out the door.

If Spike's heart had actually worked, it would have skipped a beat.


	6. Chapter 6

 

LVI - Charge!

 

 

Spike trailed behind Willow as they headed into the next game. They were playing embassy, where one team would be all in a room and the other team would try to shoot all of them. The white team was attacking, the harder of the two, and he wondered if she would enjoy it. Planning on keeping close by her, he never expected what happened next. 

The whistle blew. 

She looked up at him with undoubtably a smile on her face. 

Then, she charged. 

It was something right out of Star Wars, when Han charged down the hallway after the stormtroopers. She yelled and ran towards the building, finger on the trigger, paintballs firing out of the semi-automatic. He saw people on the opposite team going down left and right as her shots hit their marks. So enthused was her attack that half the white team joined in her attack, whooping and hollering as a steady stream of gunfire rained on the building. 

Then, she was hit. A lot. 

"Ouch," he winced as she did with each jerk she made as she was shot. He heard her yell the required ‘hit' and raise her hands high, but she was still directly in the line of fire. She turned and started back towards where he was standing dumbfounded under a hail of paintballs. 

When she passed by, she goosed him. 

He yelped, jumped around to face the direction she went, and got hit in the back of the head with a shot. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LVII - Growing a Pair

 

 

"Oh goddess that was fun," Willow said as she sank down on a chair. She brought her hand up to rub the back of her neck and it came back covered in ball fragments and white paint. She laughed delightedly and shrugged out of her jacket, wincing. 

"Pet, what in the bloody hell was that about?" Spike asked as he came up to her. He set his gun and mask down and took off his own jacket. 

"That was me growing a pair," she replied with a grin. 

"Do what?" he said. 

"Yup, it's official,"she told him. "I am a bonafide member of the brass cajones set." 

Spike stared at her, wide eyed, mouth slightly open in shock. "Did you get hit in the head?" he finally asked. 

Willow shook her head no, then rubbed her shoulder. "Ow. That smarts." 

Concern immediately overcame the shock, and the blond vampire moved behind her. "Cor, Willow, you're a bloody mess. Literally." 

"That good, huh?" Willow said. "Think I'll win the tacos?" 

"I think you're batty. Completely ‘round the bend, you've gone," he told her, brushing the paintball chips off of her neck. He moved to his gun case and dug around until he found a clean rag, then started to dab at the bleeding welts on her neck, arms and shoulders. "Why did you do that, pet? Not that it wasn't a riot to watch, mind you." 

"Jamie told me to forget about worrying if I get hit or not and just blow people away," she explained. Then, she sighed. "What a rush. I feel like I can take on a whole platoon." 

Spike chuckled. "Why don't we save that for the next time out, kitten." 

The others came back and all oh'd and ah'd over her injuries, already claiming that she'd be the winner. Willow was jazzed about what she'd done and, when the referee called next game, she was one of the first ones out there. 

Spike shook his head as he watched her practically sprint away. She was truly an amazing creature. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LVIII - Big Blue Bathtub

 

 

Willow won six tacos. 

Smiling, she continued to dig in the sand between her feet as she chatted with the group around the bonfire at the beach. She'd been introduced to four more of Spike's paintball friends, Duffy, Janel, Matt and Piz. They got together weekly for Blast Camp and then sometimes they came down to the beach, like tonight. 

"Who brought the soap?" Kurt asked, pulling his t-shirt off. 

"I got it," Piz said, digging through her bag. She handed him a bar of Ivory. "Try not to lose it this time." 

Willow watched, her eyes growing wider, as the blond male stripped down to his briefs then headed for the water. Then Schu, Joe and Jamie joined him, although Jamie kept on her t-shirt. "Come on in, water's great!" she called up to those still on the beach. 

"Do you want to go in, pet?" Spike asked her, leaning back on his forearms in the sand. 

"Do you?" Willow replied, blushing at the thought of seeing him in his briefs again. 

"I am a bit dirty," he said. "And there's nothing like a dip in the big blue bathtub after paintball." 

She couldn't help but laugh at the thought of the Pacific Ocean being referred to as a bathtub. "I'd like to, but I'm only wearing a tank top," she told him. 

"Here," Spike said, stripping off his shirt. "You can wear this, then change back into your tank afterwards. I'll meet you down in the water." 

"Thanks," Willow said, pushing away her shyness to change. She turned her back and did the girl thing with her sports bra, pulling her arms in her sleeves, then pulling it over her head. She stood and undid her fatigues, having already removed her socks and boots, and let them fall to the ground. She was glad the t-shirt was on the long side, covering her more than Buffy's skirts did the Slayer. 

When she turned back, she saw Spike already in the water, as he said. He waved for her to come in and she hurried down to the edge, letting the waves wash over her feet. It was cold, but not freezing in the summer months. She wiggled her toes, watching them under the spray, then looked up. 

Spike was staring at her, a small grin on his face. 

Willow felt her whole heart fill up with happiness and something more as she entered the water and went over to where the small knot of friends were splashing. When she got to his side, she smiled up at him. "You're all wet." 

"Really?" Spike said in fake amazement. "How did that bloody happen?" 

She scrunched her nose, then shot her arm over the surface of the water, splashing him. Soon, they were embroiled in a water fight, laughing and swimming around like children. Eventually, they tired and Willow leaned back on the surface of the water, watching the sky. 

"See anything interesting, kitten?" the blond vampire asked softly, squatting in the water so only his head was above the surface by her side.

"I was debating whether or not to make a wish," Willow told him. 

Moving closer to he redhead, Spike quietly sang near her ear, "‘When you wish upon a star, makes no difference who you are, anything your heart desires, your dreams will come true.'" 

Straightening, she found herself face-to-face him. With a small smile, she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "You are the sweetest vampire I've ever met," she said, then headed for shore. 

Spike's cheek was burning from where she kissed him and he had trouble catching his breath. 

Even though he didn't breathe. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LIX - Painful Memories

 

 

"I had so much fun, Spike," Willow told the blond vampire as he walked her to her front door. "I never knew playing paintball could be such a-a-a..." 

"Blast?" Spike finished with a grin. She rolled her eyes at him at the pun. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, kitten. We can do it again any time you want." 

"Really?" she said with bounce of excitement. "Cool. Let's go next Saturday." 

Spike laughed at her enthusiasm. "I think I've created a monster." 

"Yup," Willow nodded in agreement. "A Willow-monster, who's gonna get ya." Her hands snaked out and danced along his ribs, making him jump away with a small shout. "Come here, Sexy Knickers, and take it like a man." 

"Not on my unlife, Willow," Spike told her as he yanked the back of her still wet braid and took off running across the yard. The redhead gave chase and the two ended up collapsing in a pile of limbs when she managed to tackle him. 

"Got ya!" she declared, moving so she was sitting on his stomach. She bounced up and down again on him with each cheer. "I win! I win! I win!" 

"Get off of me, you big oaf," he said, trying to scowl at her, but not succeeding. 

"I'm not an oaf," she stated with fake disdain. "I am a Princess. All bow before me." 

Spike froze with her words, his smile fading from his face as the memories of Drusilla surfaced. Painful memories of their last night together when she left him, on the arm of yet another demon, in front of every one of his minions. Her scorn filed remarks echoed in his mind, the words still hurtful. **Your Princess has found a much better Prince, luv. Even Miss Edith says so. Why don't you go run along back to your room and cry like the little boy you are.** Then, as she left, he couldn't prevent the tear that did make its way down his cheek, making those around him laugh. He left Brazil five minutes later, not stopping until he ran into the Welcome To Sunnydale sign ten days after that. 

"Spike?" Willow said, peering down at him in the dark. "What's wrong?" 

"Nothing, luv," Spike lied, giving her a slight push so he could get up. "Come on, it's been a long night. Time for all witches to be in bed." 

"Are you sure?" she asked. "You just seem so sad suddenly..." 

"I'm sure," he replied, escorting her to her front door. "Goodnight, Willow." 

As he turned to go, she grabbed his arm. "Spike, wait," she said. When he looked down at her, she continued. "I know that guys don't like to talk about what's bothering them, but if you ever do, I'll be here." 

Spike gave her a small smile. "Thanks, kitten. ‘Night." 

"Bye," Willow replied, then watched as he walked back to his car, his head hanging in sadness or defeat. She wondered what had happened to cause his sudden change in mood, but wouldn't press for him to tell her. If he wanted to talk, he'd seek her out. Until then, she could only ask the Goddess for patience and send a little anti-sadness energy his way. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LX - The Great Big Ow

 

 

"Um, ow," Willow said as she tried to move the next morning, or almost noon when she managed to turn her head and look at the clock. Everything hurt. Extremely much. In fact, she doubted she could make it to the bathroom because of the pain. Why did she think paintball was so much fun? "Because you were with Spike," she answered her own question aloud. "Digging through a garbage dumpster would be fun with Spike. Face it, Rosenberg, you got a thing for the blond fang-face." 

She sighed and attempted to roll out of the bed with as little movement as possible. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," she repeated with each step out of the bedroom and to the bathroom. She unbuttoned her sleep-shirt and let it fall to the floor to survey herself in the mirror above the sink. 

Her body was covered in welts and bruises, all around the size of slowly growing quarters from where the paintballs hit. With another groan, she turned on the water and plugged the drain to draw herself a bath. She added a bit of almond bubble bath, then brushed her teeth and used the toilet before not-so-quickly returning to her room for the portable phone and to grab her robe. She was glad her parents were gone again, so she could run, or rather hobble pitifully, around the house naked. 

Sliding into the tub with a pleasure-filled sigh, she leaned back on the folded towel and let the hot water work its magic on her aching body. Her mind drifted to the one person her mind was always on -- Spike. The funny, sexy, intelligent, silly vampire who invaded her life on graduation and she hadn't been able to get rid of since. She chuckled at her thoughts at the same time the phone rang. 

"Hello, the Great Big Ow here," Willow said into the receiver with a smile, glad she brought the phone with her. 

"The Great Big Ow?" Buffy asked from the other end of the line. 

"Yup," the redhead replied. "I am one large bruise. I'm so black and blue, people are going to think I'm a blueberry." 

"With red hair?" Buffy laughed. "I doubt it. So, I take it you had fun." 

"Much fun," Willow agreed. "I'm going again next Saturday. That is, if Sp-Billy is over whatever is bothering him." 

"Trouble in love land?" Buffy asked. 

"I don't love him," Willow told her best friend. She ignored Buffy's ‘yet' and went on. "And I don't know what's wrong with him. We were goofing around like normal and he suddenly got all sad and distant." 

"Well, what triggered it?" Buffy said. 

"I was sitting on his stomach after tackling him and was making fun of him for my winning," Willow said, grinning at the memory. "Then he called me a big oaf and I told him I wasn't a big oaf, I was a Princess and all...oh! Oh goddess." 

"What?" 

"I know what I said," Willow replied quietly, her heart filled with sadness and pain for Spike. "Oh goddess, I inadvertently hurt him in the worst possible way." 

"How?" Buffy asked. 

"By reminding him of his ex-girlfriend," the redhead answered vaguely. "Stupid, stupid, stupid. How would you like it if he brought up Oz?" 

"Um, Wills?" Buffy said. 

"What? Oh sorry, Buffy," Willow said, not realizing she said her last few thoughts out loud. Her mind was turning over what happened and how she could make him feel better. "Are you up for a little trip to the mall?" 

"Me? You feel the need to ask?" Buffy teased. "I'll be over in half an hour." 

After disconnecting, Willow set the phone down and submerged her head under the water. She wanted to drown herself for what she did, but settled for washing the remaining paint out of her hair and getting ready to go to the mall with Buffy. At the last minute, she called Faith and asked if she'd like to join them. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXI - B Is For Big

 

 

The mall wasn't too crowded for a Sunday afternoon as the three girls wandered into the building. Dressed in mismatched shorts and t-shirts, they laughed and joked over Willow's colorful markings on her skin. The redhead led them to the Hallmark store first, getting raised eyebrows from both Slayers, but neither commented. 

Searching through the cards, she started humming, then grinned when she realized what song it was. "What'cha smiling at Red?" Faith asked, rearranging the cards to annoy the employees. 

"Just thinking," Willow replied, cutting off the Disney tune from the night before. She opened a possible card and read it, then discarded it. 

"About your hottie?" Faith said. 

"Maybe," the redhead answered slyly. 

"When are we going to meet this mystery hunk?" Buffy asked over the top of the card rack from the next row. 

Willow shrugged and pulled another card. "Don't know. He's awfully busy," she lied. 

"But never too busy for you," Buffy said. "I see how it is." Willow blushed. "Yup, the Willster's got the hots for her pal Billy." 

"If his name is William, you could both be Wills," Faith commented with a smirk. 

"Er, it is," Willow confessed, ducking her head so her hair covered her flaming face. "William B. Smith." 

"What's the ‘B.' stand for?" Faith asked. "Babe?" 

Buffy snorted with laughter. "Or how about Beauhunk?"

"Boff?" 

"Beautiful?" 

"Big?" Both Slayers broke into giggles at Faith's addition. 

"Guys," Willow said, feigning embarrassment now that the initial shock wore off. 

"So what is it, Willow?" Buffy asked. 

"Big, definitely Big," Willow replied with a devilish grin, the took her selection and left the two gape-mouthed girls as she went to the cashier. 

They caught up with the redhead as she left the store. "Willow! I can't believe you of all people said that!" Buffy exclaimed as they walked towards the next store. 

"Way to go, Red," Faith said with a grin. "You shocked me good." 

Willow shrugged off their comments as she led them into Spencer's Gifts. Faith immediately went to the novelty sex toys and Buffy checked out the jewelry. The hacker walked around the outer rows of the store, examining the knick-knacks and t-shirts until she found something that made her burst out laughing in the sale t-shirt area. 

Smothering her giggles, she pulled the shirt to purchase, then continued to look around as she waited for her friends. She ended up finding something for herself, as well, and eventually they all made it out of the store, bags in hand. 

"Where to next?" Faith asked, sucking on a very graphic cherry sucker from the store. 

"I need to stop by The Glass Works," Willow replied. "But other than that..." 

"There's a sale over at Contempo Casuals," Buffy pointed out. 

"Buffy, don't you think you have enough clothes?" Willow said. 

"Never," Buffy told her, and the three girls went gossiping together into the store. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXII -Hot- Wired

 

 

Willow stole Spike's car. 

It wasn't that difficult, once she accessed hot-wiring instructions on a classic 1963 De Soto off of the Internet. She even remembered to wear clunky heels and bring a phone book so she could easily see out of the small clear area in the windshield. All the windows were rolled down in order for her to use the side mirrors instead of the rear view mirror. Besides, he wouldn't know it was missing considering he was asleep when she snuck through the house into the garage and taken it. 

With a cheerful smile, she flicked on the radio and sang along as she drove the monstrous car towards her destination. Her blue jean cutoffs and green tank top did nothing to hide the bruises still marring her body late Sunday afternoon. She had finished shopping with the Slayers only twenty minutes before and had stopped at home to quickly change clothes and drop off her packages. 

"I can't see me lovin' nobody but you for all my life. When your with me baby the skies will be blue for all my life," she sang. "Me and you, and you and me. No matter how they toss the dice, it has to be. The only one for me is you, and you for me. So happy together. How is the weather? So happy together. Da da da, dada da da. Da da da, dada da da." 

Pulling up to the store, she parked as close as she dared in the big car, then kicked the wiring apart and headed for the doors, stopping to grab an extra-large cart on the way. "Hi!" Willow greeted the blue-haired, senior citizen with an employee name tag as she entered the gardening center. "I need a whole bunch of..." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXIII - Oops

 

 

Willow stopped back at her house to grab a few more tools, then drove back to Spike's house. The sun was still shining brightly as she pulled into the driveway. She had about three hours left before it set for the night and had a lot of work to do. 

She made a face at herself in the large picture window, knowing he couldn't see her because of the boards on the inside, she set down her load from home and Frank's Nursery & Crafts, then went back and closed the truck, which luckily opened from a lever inside the car, with a grimace. She did not want to know what some of the stains were in there. 

Whistling, the redhead plopped down onto her knees and began to work. First, she dug up the weeded area underneath the window, making sure to remove all the pesky plants. Then she sprinkled the area liberally with the fertilizer she'd bought, followed by a magickal compound she'd created herself to aid in flower growth. Finally, she began planting the tiny, night-blooming flowers in the area before repeating the entire process on the other side of the front step. 

Her entire project left her sweaty, dirty, and only ten minutes to clean up the equipment by throwing it all back into his trunk. Wiping a hand across her cheek, she left a dirt-streaked trail as she jumped back into his car and re-started it, then headed back to her house. 

After emptying the trunk once again, she dashed inside to take a quick shower, leaving her hair loose and dressed in light-weight sundress and sandals. With a smile for herself in the mirror, she quickly wrapped her other gift, then headed out the door for yet another trip in Spike's car. She was anxious to get to his house before he went out to hunt. So anxious that she didn't see the police car until she sped past him and the blue, revolving lights appeared in the side mirror. 

"Oh goddess," Willow breathed as she pulled to the side of the road. "This is so not good." 

She kept her hands on the wheel as instructed long ago, waiting for the officer to approach her open windows. Her heart was pounding in her chest so loudly, she would swear it echoed out into the street. "Excuse me, Miss. Will you turn down the radio?" the officer said. 

"Y-Yes," Willow replied, reaching over to flick it off. She tried to take a steading breath, but she wheezed instead and almost ended up in a coughing fit. 

"License, registration and proof of insurance, please," the uniformed officer named Sanchez instructed. 

"Yes," Willow repeated, reaching to the backpack on the seat next to her. She opened the outer- most pocket with shaking hands and handed him her driver's license and insurance card for her parents car. "I-I need to get the-the registration out of the glove compartment." 

"Go ahead," Sanchez said, watching her. She undid her seatbelt, then slid over to open the box. Papers and things she would rather not identify fell out, including a heavy, metal railroad spike which caused her to squeak and toss the item into the back seat. She rifled through the papers, then realized Spike may not have a registration for the car. 

"Um, I-I-I can't find it," Willow told him. "It's not my car. I'm borrowing it." 

"Oh really?" Sanchez replied, surveying the interior and painted windows with a intelligent eye, including the lack of keys in the ignition. 

**Why did I have to get pulled over by the only competent cop in Sunnydale?** Willow thought to herself with dread. "Are you going to give me a-a-a-a ticket?" 

"I think you'd better step out of the car, Miss Rosenberg," Sanchez instructed, glancing at her license. "On this side, if you please." 

"Yes, sir," she replied, sliding across the seat again and opening the door. She kicked the wires keeping the car running as she was getting out and she gave him a nervous smile. "Oops." 

"Miss, I'm going to ask you to wait in the back of my vehicle while I search the car," Sanchez told her. He led her over to the squad car and put her in the back seat, then shut the door. He slid into the front seat and began working on a red-screened computer, entering her license and insurance information, as well as Spike's license plate number and car description. 

Willow watched with dread as he left the car while the computer was searching in order to preform his own search. "Oh goddess, I repeat, this is so not good," she said, watching the officer's every move. While she didn't think Spike had anything bad in his car, she never looked under the seats for any reason. For all she knew, he could have body parts shoved under there. 

"Next time, I walk," she mumbled as the information appeared on the computer screen, stating that while Willow was not wanted for a single thing, the black De Soto was definitely not hers and the license plate was not listed. "Even if it's up hill, both ways, in the snow." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXIV - Who Ya Gonna Call?

 

 

She couldn't decide who to call. Officer Sanchez had taken Willow into Sunnydale Police Station, located next to City Hall and confiscated all the contents of the car, including her backpack and gifts. She was questioned as to who the car belonged to, why she had borrowed it, where she was coming from and going to, and most importantly, where were the car keys. She answered every question truthfully, only stuttering over the first and last question when answering ‘her friend, Spike' and ‘she didn't know.' 

"Come on, Rosenberg," she said to herself in front of the piece of paper where she was suppose to write down the phone number of who to call. "Buffy or Spike?" 

There were up and down sides to either person. Both could vouch for her and get her out. However, if she called the Slayer, Buffy would know instantly who's car she had borrowed and Spike would be in trouble, as would she for keeping him a secret. If she called Spike, well, he was a vampire, he didn't really match the picture on his driver's license and he couldn't afford to get thrown in jail because of the threat of sun-exposure if he had to stay. 

All in all, she was up Shit Creek without a paddle. 

Her only other choices were Faith, Giles or Xander. Faith she instantly ruled out because she didn't know what the brunette Slayer might do, and they both might end up in jail. Xander was gone for the day and Giles was out of town, as well. The only really good thing was that her parents were out of town, too, so the police couldn't contact them at all. 

"Ok, which is worse? Buffy dusting Spike, or Spike possibly getting dusted by the sunlight?" Willow asked herself as she looked around the room she was in. So far, the interior of the small station had few windows and none in the cell she'd been put into while waiting, an experience she'd rather not repeat. Luckily, she had been alone. The police in Sunnydale were unusually incompetent. Except for the one who brought her in. "He must be new," she mumbled as she rubbed her temples. "Grr! Pick one!" 

Closing her eyes, Willow jotted down whatever her hand wanted. When she reopened them, she slumped back in the chair and wrote down a name on the next line. Then she tossed the pen onto the table to wait. 

Spike was in for a bigger surprise than she had planned. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXV - I Have A Small Problem

 

 

Officer Sanchez dialed the phone number as Willow clutched the receiver tightly in her hand. The line rang in her ear and she found herself chanting in her mind for him to pick up the phone. It was possible that he already left to hunt, and she might not get in touch with him for hours. **Please, Spike, be home,** she thought. 

"‘Lo," Spike said on the other end of the line as he picked up. 

"Spike," Willow squeaked, then cleared her throat and tried again, giving Officer Sanchez a nervous glance. "Um, I have a small problem. Ok, it's not small. It's pretty big. As is very big. I'm talking big huge..." 

"Willow," Spike interrupted, unconsciously mimicking her grip on the receiver on his end. "Tell me what's wrong." 

"IborrowedyourcarandIwasspeedingandgotpulledovernowIaminjail," she rushed out all in one breath. 

"Once more time, and breathe," the blond vampire instructed. 

"Um, your car. I kinda borrowed it today. A-and now I'm in jail," Willow confessed in a weak voice. "They need you to, uh, come down to the police station. I'm so sorry, Spike. I was trying to do something nice for you and-" 

Spike interrupted her again. "I'll be down there in a few minutes, ok?" 

"Yeah," she replied. "I'm sorry." But he had already hung up. She handed the receiver to Sanchez and clutched her hands together. "He'll be here as soon as he can." 

"Very well," Sanchez said, standing. With a gesture, he led her back to the holding cell and locked her inside. 

Miserably, she sat down on the bench provided and leaned her head back against the yellow bars, then decided against it. Instead, she dropped face to her hands and let out a quiet scream. Sometimes life didn't go as planned. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXVI - Apologies

 

 

"Willow?" 

Willow raised her head to see Officer Sanchez standing beside Spike, who looking at her with an expressionless face through the bars to the small holding cell. "Spike, you're here," she breathed in relief. Then worry took over. Worry that he was going to be in jail instead. "Is everything ok? I couldn't find your registration and then I didn't know if...with your special circumstances, you know. Is everything ok?" 

"Everything's fine, pet," Spike told her. Sanchez opened the door. "Come on, let's go." 

"Really?" Willow said as she stood. Spike nodded and she quickly exited the cell and followed him towards the clerk. She was given back her things after signing a mountain of paperwork, then trailed behind Spike once again as they left the police station. "You're not mad, are you?" she asked meekly. 

"No," he replied. 

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have taken your car. It was wrong. I'm a bad Willow. I should be banned from ever driving again." 

Spike stopped walking towards the side lot where said car was waiting for them and put his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her. "Kitten, you did nothing wrong. I don't mind you borrowing my bloody car. In fact, I think it's pretty damn funny that you hot-wired it to begin with," he said with a small quirk of his lips. 

"So you're not mad?" Willow asked. 

"No, I'm not mad," Spike replied. "Now, let's get you home." 

"But I don't want to go home," she blurted, then blushed. Spike arched his brow, the smile on his face growing. "I mean, I was on my way back to your house to surprise you when I got pulled over." 

"I think you've accomplished the surprising me part, luv," he said wryly. He chuckled when her blush deepened. "To my house then?" 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXVII - A Sweet Surprise

 

 

Spike stood in front of his house, staring down at Willow's surprise. 

It was a flower garden of deep purple violets. 

"Do you like it?" Willow asked quietly, a nervous frown marring her face. She tucked her hair behind her ears, then pulled it free. 

The blond vampire blinked back his tears, wondering what he did to be blessed with someone as wonderful as Willow for a friend. His depression about Drusilla instantly vanished, to be replaced by a heart-filling happiness. "Cor, Willow, I don't know what to say," he replied in a tight voice. 

"Is that bad?" she said. 

"No, it's good," he answered, turning and pulling her into a tight hug. "It's bloody wonderful. Thank you." 

Willow snuggled into his blue t-shirt over his muscular chest, secretly reveling in the feeling of his arms around her. "You're welcome," she replied happily. 

"Want to go rent a picture, kitten?" Spike asked. 

"Sure," she answered. She looked up at him and winked. "Want me to drive?" 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXVIII - Sunset

 

 

"Tomorrow night, we need to go to The Teacher's Store and get some stuff," Willow said as they wandered the aisles of Hollywood Video. "Time to start working." 

"Joy," Spike replied sarcastically. She swatted him on the arm. "What are we looking for?" 

"Books for you to read, that sort of thing," she answered. 

"I meant here," he said. 

"Oh," she blushed. "Um, I don't know. What are you in the mood for?" 

"How ‘bout a picture where a beautiful redhead steals a vampire's car and gets thrown in jail," Spike suggested with a smirk. 

"I am never going to live this down, am I?" Willow said. Then she looked over at him in shy surprise. "You...you think I'm beautiful?" 

"More beautiful than a sunset," he replied, reaching out to run his finger along her cheek. 

She blushed. "Er, h-how about this one?" she said, grabbing a video blindly off the shelf and thrusting it at him in nervousness. 

Spike took the video from her with a smile and looked down at it, dropping his hand from her face. When he saw what it was, he quirked a brow. "Do you want to be the ball, Danny?" 

"What?" Willow said, confused and a bit shaken from what had just occurred. 

He held up the copy of  _Caddyshack_. "I'm quite partial to the gofer," he told her. "He's got some bloody swell dance moves." 

Willow started to giggle, then squeaked, "Ut-oh," in the gofer's ‘voice.' Spike joined in her laughter and before long, the two were quoting the famous movie's lines back and forth as they made their way to the check-out counter. The intimate moment had passed. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXIX - To Make You Feel Good

 

 

Willow was sound asleep, her head in his lap, by the time the movie ended. Spike smiled softly, wondering when he went from being a big, bad vampire to being used as a pillow for a human -- and not minding it what-so-ever. He hit the remote that was on the table next to the couch by his arm, shutting off the tv and VCR, then eyed the two wrapped packages on the coffee table with the card on top.

"Well, she did say after the picture," Spike said to himself, coming up with the excuse to open them because he knew he wouldn't be able to _not_  open them. Leaning forward carefully, so as not to disturb Willow, he picked up the packages and put them on the end table. 

He opened the card first. When he saw a classic still from the movie  _Dracula_ , with Bela Lugosi, he let out a quiet chuckle. The vampire in the picture was standing behind a woman seated at a desk, preparing to put the bite on her. Opening the card, he read the caption. "I thing, er think, I owe you a bite of a a-pol...a-polo...a-po-log-ee. Oh, apology. I think I owe you a bite of an apology." 

Spike groaned at the horrible joke. Shaking his head, he glanced down at Willow to be sure he didn't wake her, then went to work on what she had written on the other flap. He noticed right off the bat that she had used small words that he could easily read, and could feel his heart swelling at this simple action. She didn't do it because she pitied him, she did it because she wanted him to be able to read it without problem. 

"Spike," he read quietly. "I made a boo-boo and I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you at all. You are my pal, and I want to keep you like that. The gifts are to make you feel good. So open them! Love, W." 

With that tugging feeling around his heart, the set the card aside and decided to open the soft one first. As quietly as he could, he opened the cheerful wrappings and had to bite his lip to keep from laughing out loud. He lifted the black t-shirt up and sniggered at the yellow smiley-face with fangs and a little blood running from its mouth. "Cor, kitten, that's really bad," he whispered. 

He set the shirt aside and tossed the wrapping paper on the floor, then reached for the second gift. The paper ended up on the floor as well, and he opened the smallish, black box. His eyes widened and he looked down at Willow with surprise before he carefully took the object out of the box.

It was a tinted glass figurine of the Magic Kingdom. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXX - Wake-up Call

 

 

Spike quietly let himself back into the house and went into the living room. Willow was still sleeping on the couch. He sat down on the coffee table across from her and folded his hands together, letting his elbows rest on his knees as he studied her. **So trusting,** he thought, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. **So innocent. So young.** 

He'd had a wake-up call a short while ago, something he'd been avoiding since the summer had begun. He'd gone out to hunt, the blood had been warm and full of fear, and as the body was falling to the ground from his deadly embrace, Buffy had walked around the corner. For the first time since he'd been turned, he was afraid. Afraid the Slayer would see him; afraid he'd have to fight her; afraid that, no matter what the outcome of that fight, he'd hurt Willow. 

That was what scared him most of all. He didn't want the young woman sleeping in front of him hurt in any way, especially not because of him. His feelings for her ran deeper than they should between a vampire and a mortal, and he didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

Spike had always seemed to have more feelings than what was deemed ‘normal' by the vampire community. He enjoyed violence and death; but, for some reason, he also enjoyed love and life. He was just as content to sit and watch a night-blooming flower open under the moonlight as he was feeling someone's life drain away under his bite. 

**I'm an emotional ninny,** he thought, his eyes drifting from Willow's sleeping form to the glass figurine on the end table. He'd only been friends with her for two months, and she already knew more about him than Drusilla did in over a hundred years. Then again, his black queen had been slightly on the insane side. 

With a sigh, he let his thoughts drift back to the problem. If he continued to hunt, undoubtably he'd run into the Slayer eventually, but that wasn't his only concern. Willow had been turning a blind eye to his feeding habits and, sooner or later, she'd have to choose between everything she believed in and fought against over the past three years...and him. 

**So very young,** Spike thought, reaching out to brush her hair off of her face. His hand hovered above her face, then he pulled it back and re-clasped his fingers together. **So very, very young.**


	7. Chapter 7

 

LXXI -We Need To Talk

 

 

Willow wandered into Spike's kitchen in search of a glass of juice. She stretched as she walked, working the kinks out from sleeping on his couch. She had seen the open gifts when she had woken up and had grinned. She knew he wouldn't have been able to wait. 

Taking out the orange juice, she poured some for herself, then leaned back against the counter as she drank it. That's when she saw the note. It was propped up against a kit-model of an old fashioned car. Setting her now empty glass in the sink, she picked up the note and read it. 

 _W~_  
We neeb to tawk. Wake me.  
~S 

"Ut-oh, I don't like the sound of that," she said to herself. She set the note back on the table, then headed for Spike's bedroom. 

"Knock, knock," Willow called out as she pushed open the door. She peeked her head around it and saw the blond vampire sprawled lengthwise across the bed, face first. His bare feet were hanging off the side closest to her, and with a wicked grin, she tip-toed into the room and ran her fingernails over them. 

"AAAHHH!" Spike yelled, coming instantly awake and rolling over as he brought his knees up to his chest. When he saw Willow laughing at him, he scowled. "Not funny, witch." 

"Yes it was," Willow gasped out between laughs. 

He continued to glare at her as he sat up and scooted around until his back was against the headboard. "Are you through yet?" 

"Uh...no," she giggled. At his exasperated look, she swallowed her laughter and sat down. "Ok, I'm done." A lone snigger escaped, then she put on her resolve face. "Now I'm really done." 

"You sure?" he said. 

"Yes," she answered seriously. "You left a note you wanted to talk to me?" Spike nodded and patted the bed next to him. As she sat, she asked, "I'm not going to like this, am I?" 

"I don't know if we should be friends anymore." 

Willow blinked in shock. This she was definitely not expecting. "W-What? Why?" 

Spike avoided looking at her as he said, "I'm a killer. I hunt humans for their blood and leave them dead on the ground with no remorse."

"I know that," she said quietly after a moment. "I'm not going to lie to you and say that I'm ok with it, because I'm not. At all. In fact, I really don't like it. But you have to have blood to live and it's not my place to tell you not to hunt humans." 

Spike frowned. "I thought you'd be the first in line to tell me to stop." 

"Spike," Willow said, taking his hand. "You're my friend. You're actually my best friend. You know more about me than Xander has learned in his whole life. Around you, I don't have to be the reliable one or the shy, quiet one. Not that I'm not those things, too. I'm just not those things all the time." 

"I don't want you to have to choose between them or me, Willow," Spike said, finally meeting her eyes. 

"I'm not going to choose between them or you," Willow told him. "Just like I'm not going to choose to tell you how to live your life. If I tried to change you, I wouldn't be a very good friend. Friends are suppose to like you the way you are, not the way they want you to be." 

"But I kill people!" he insisted. 

Willow was silent for a minute, then she stood. "Spike, I'm not going to stop you. If you don't want to see me anymore because of it, that's your decision," she said. "I'm going to go home now. If I see you later, alright. If I don't, that's alright, too." 

She walked towards his bedroom door, then paused and looked back at him. "Just remember, you'll always be my friend." Then she turned and left. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXII - Resigned

 

 

Monday night, Willow sat in her room and stared at her French doors from sunset to sunrise. 

Tuesday night, she did the same. 

Wednesday, her parents came home, and she borrowed the car to make the trip to the teacher's store after deciding to think positive. But on Wednesday night, he never came. 

Thursday and Friday blended together as she avoided her other friends and had a Disney marathon. 

Saturday night, she went to play paintball. She had fun, but it just wasn't the same. 

Sunday, she resigned herself to the fact that he wouldn't be coming and she asked the goddess to watch out for him wherever he may go. 

A week to the day later, Spike came. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXIII -Soul Searching

 

 

Willow looked up from her laptop at the light knocking on her French doors. She glanced at the clock, wondering if it was Buffy again, depressed over Angel's impending departure in a couple weeks. She got off the bed and padded quietly to the doors, not wanting to wake her parents. She winced when the handle creaked as she opened the door. "Buffy, if that's you, we have to be qui-" Her eyes grew wide when she saw who was standing there. "Spike!" 

"Hello, luv," Spike said quietly. "Can I come in." 

"Of course you can," Willow said, standing back. "You're always welcome." 

Spike silently slipped into the room and Willow closed the door behind him. "Are your parents home?" 

"Yeah," she answered. "So whisper." He looked around the room as Willow stood nervously where she was. "Um, did you want to talk to me? Or-or have you just come to sit? We can just sit and not talk. I don't mind not talking." 

One side of his mouth quirked up. "How about I talk and you sit?" 

"Ok," she replied, not moving. His brow went up and she blushed. "Oh, it would help if I sat." She returned to her bed, closing the laptop and moving it off to the side. Pulling her bare legs up under her extra-large t-shirt, she gave him her full attention. "I'm sitting." 

Spike took the cigarette that had been behind his ear and began to play with it. "I have a question for you," he started. 

"Yeah?" 

"Does the fact that I'm over one hundred and seventy years older than you bother you?" he asked. 

"I haven't even thought about that," Willow said. "I mean, you don't act like you're in your early two-hundreds." 

He looked at her and grinned. "Known many bicentennials?" 

"A few," she replied, returning his smile. 

Spike chuckled and sat down at the end of the bed. "I guess you have at that, luv." He tapped the filter end of the cigarette on her bedspread. "I went on a little holiday this week." He looked up at her and grinned. "A sort of soul searching holiday." 

Willow giggled. "Did you find any?" 

"A few at Wal-Mart," he replied. "They're in the aisle with the loo cleaners." 

"I read in the ads they were having a two-for-one sale on them," she commented. He rolled his eyes. "So, um, how was your trip?" 

Spike became serious again. "Hard," he replied honestly. "Jokes aside, I don't have a soul, I'm an uncaring demon-" 

"Liar." 

He frowned. "What?" 

"You just lied," Willow told him. "You're not an uncaring demon. You care about everything. Probably more than a ‘normal' vampire should, but that could be because of your age. I read that some of the older master vampires seem to have more emotions than the new ones. But don't tell Giles that I read about that, because I got it out of a book he keeps locked up, and..." 

"Willow," Spike interrupted, a small smile on his lips. 

She blushed. "Sorry. Go on with your story." 

"I think you basically told it, luv," he said. "I went to LA to talk to a mate of mine. He's around three-hundred or so and has a taste for mortals." 

"Taste as in ‘tastes like chicken'?" Willow said, her eyes widening. 

"No," he chuckled. "As in, he has mortal friends and lovers." 

"Like you do, with the paintball group and me," she said, then blushed. "Well, except for the lovers part. Unless you have lovers and I don't know about it. You don't, do you? Wait, I don't want to know about it, that's private. And you were saying...?" 

"Cor, Willow, I missed you," Spike said. 

"I missed you, too," Willow said quietly. 

He smiled, then reached out and snagged her foot, pulling her leg out from under her shirt as he set it in his lap and began to massage it. "I asked Aaron if he ever felt bad about killing humans while he was friends with others," he said, continuing his story. 

"What did he say?" she asked, stretching out her other leg. 

"He said yes," Spike told her. "Then he told me to either buy a farm or change my hunting habits." 

"There aren't many farms in LA," she said, wiggling her toes on her other foot. 

"No, there isn't," he said, changing feet as prompted. "Aaron hunts what you would call ‘the bad guys.' And if he's in a pinch, he'll go to the terminal ward of the infirmary." 

"A vampire Dr. Kevorkian," Willow commented. He groaned and tickled the bottom of her foot until she kicked him. "Stop tickling. Or you're gonna get it." 

"Is that a threat, kitten?" Spike asked, cocking his head to one side. 

"Just the truth," she answered with a devilish grin, tucking her feet up under her. 

"And what is that you think you're going to do?" he said. 

"This," Willow stated, then launched herself at him, causing them to fall off the end of the bed and onto the floor. She began tickling his ribs, the vampire laughing and squirming underneath her. 

"Willow? Are you ok?" 

Willow's head shot up and her eyes grew huge. "Eep! My parents," she gasped to Spike. 

"Honey?" Sheila called through the door again, trying the locked knob. "Willow, your door is locked." 

"Answer her, kitten," Spike prompted the paralyzed girl on top of him. 

"Uh...y-yeah, Mom," Willow stammered back. "I, uh, tripped...a-a-and fell...over...something." 

"I thought I heard laughing," Sheila said. "Can you open the door?" 

"I was laughing at myself," she lied, trying to climb off of Spike. He let out a choked gasp of pain as she kneed him in the crotch. "Oops, sorry," she whispered to him. 

"Right," Spike ground out through clenched teeth. 

"Willow, open this door, please," Sheila demanded. 

"Coming, Mom," Willow replied, finally managing to get to her feet. She looked down at Spike and gestured to the French doors. "Spike, shoo!" 

"It was your knee, luv," he groaned, rising to his feet. "Not your shoe." 

"Stop making jokes and get out," she hissed. She watched as he walked stiffly out the French door, closing it securely behind him. She took a quick, deep breath and smoothed her hair down, then opened her bedroom door. "Hi, Mom. I'm sorry if I woke you..." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXIV - One Fish, Two Fish

 

 

"‘Who is this pet? Say! He is wet,'" Spike read slowly, holding the bright yellow book in his hands. "‘You never yet met a pet, I bet, as wet as they let this wet pet get.'" 

"Good," Willow told him, a large smile on her face. They were sitting in Spike's kitchen a week after the vampire had taken his ‘soul searching' trip, working on his reading skills. The redhead was extremely pleased with his rapid progress, especially since she'd be leaving for college in two-and-a-half weeks. Orientation started for her on the nineteenth, with classes starting on the twenty-third of August. 

Spike bounced his knee, as he had been doing on and off for the past hour. He glanced at the clock, wishing the sun would decide to go down earlier so he could escape the grueling work in front of him. He never knew that something as simple as reading could be so hard. Usually, he gave up after a few minutes, bored and itching for something else to do. But with the redhead prompting him, he'd been mostly sitting still for close to five hours every day for the past week. 

He really wanted to get out. 

"Ok, we'll do one more," Willow said, noting his antsy movements. "Your choice." 

He grinned at her and immediately turned to the front of the Dr. Seuss book to his favorite one. "‘One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish. Black fish, blue fish, old fish, new fish,'" he began. "‘This one has a little star. This one has a little car. Say! What a lot of fish there are.'" 

As he slowly read, Willow walked around behind him, mouthing the words she'd heard over and over and over again until she knew it by rote. "‘Yes. Some are red. And some are blue. Some are old. And some are new. Some are sad. And some are glad. And some are very, very bad. Why are they sad and glad and bad? I do not know. Go ask your dad." 

Spike turned to the last page of the tongue twister rhyme and finished with a flourish. "‘Some are thin. And some are fat. The fat one has a yellow hat. From there to here, from here to there, funny things are everywhere.'" 

The book slammed shut, the vampire bounded to his feet, and the tutoring session was over. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXV - From His Basement

 

 

"I can't believe I leave in eighteen days," Willow said, as she and Spike walked from his car into the armory. "Eighteen. That's as many days as I am old. Even less once it gets past midnight. Then it'll only be seventeen!"

"I thought you were excited about going to university," Spike said. 

"I am," she replied. "But at the same time, I'm not. I mean, it's not here. I'm leaving Sunnydale for Los Angeles. Hellmouth for hellhole." 

Spike chuckled. "It's not that bad, kitten." 

"Yes it is!" she stated. "I won't know anyone...well, I'll know Angel...and Cordelia. Not that Cordelia and I are on buddy-buddy terms. And it's not like Angel can come out during the day. Can I change my mind and move into your basement for the next four years?" 

With that innocent question, Spike felt like someone slammed a two-by-four across his chest. His mind flitted from imaginary image to image of what it would be like to have Willow living with him. How he would get her from the basement to his... 

"Spike? Are you ok? You're looking kinda funny," Willow said, watching her friend closely. 

"I'm-" he squeaked. He shot her an embarrassed smile, cleared his throat and tried again. "I'm fine." He spotted their friends and sighed in relief. "Why don't you take this," he handed her his weapons box, "and I'll go get your things." 

"Um...ok," she replied, watching him strangely as he practically bolted. "I have the strangest friends." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXVI - What Are You Guys...?

 

 

"Knock, knock." 

"Who's there?" Willow replied. 

"Horror," Kurt answered. 

"Horror who?" she said. 

"Horror ya doing tonight?" he finished, then gave her a smile full of fake fangs. 

Willow groaned and thumped her head on the picnic table. "That was really bad, Kurt." Schu threw a M&M at him while the other seven at the table made gagging noises. 

"Hi, Willow." 

She lifted her head and glanced over her shoulder. "Oh, hi, Buffy. Hi, Xander. Hi, Faith." She turned back to her paintball friends, then did a double take. Slowly, looking back over her shoulder, her eyes huge. "W-What are you guys doing here?" 

"We thought we'd come and see what's so exciting," Buffy replied. She gestured down to her fatigues. "Would I be dressed like this otherwise?" 

"Er...no?" Willow said. Her eyes darted behind them, searching for Spike. This was so not good. 

"You gonna introduce us, Red?" Faith asked. 

"Oh, um, yeah," she said. "This is Jamie, Schu, Joe, Kurt, Matt, Deuce, Nel and Duffy." She pointed to each camouflaged person in turn. "Um, guys. These a-are my friends, Buffy, Xander and Faith." 

"Hey," Faith greeted, straddling the bench next to Willow. 

"Have you guys got your stuff?" Jamie asked the new trio. 

"Er, stuff?" Xander asked. 

"Guess not," Duffy said. "Semis, paintballs and masks up there." He pointed in the general direction of the other side of the shelter. 

"Game!" a referee shouted. 

"You coming, Will?" Joe asked as he and the paintball friends stood, grabbing their masks and weapons. 

"I don't have my gear yet," Willow replied, shaking her head. 

"Use Spi-" 

"NO!" Willow interrupted loudly. She blushed. "I mean, I'll, er, wait." 

"Roger that, Red Lady," Duffy said, giving her a salute. 

"‘Red Lady'?" Buffy said, arching her brow at Willow as the others left. 

"Heh, heh," Willow fake laughed. She spotted Spike heading towards the table, and she began to panic. "Uh, why don't y-you go get your w-weapons and...now, please." 

"You ok, Red?" Faith asked. 

"Yeah...I'm ok," she squeaked. Quickly, she stood and grabbed Spike's mask, semi and hopper. "I think I'm going to play...yeah...you guys...bye!" She turned and practically sprinted towards where she had seen Spike, but he was no longer there. 

A hand suddenly latched onto her arm and yanked her down onto a lap. She screeched and went to bash whomever attacked her with the semi. "Woah, kitten. It's only me," Spike said, blocking the swing. 

"Spike!" Willow gasped. "You scared me!" 

"Sorry," he apologized. 

"You'd better be sorry, Mister," she scolded. "If it was Buffy, she would have sta-Buffy! Spike, Buffy, Faith and Xander are here!" 

"I know, luv," Spike said, putting a finger over her lips. "I saw them." 

"What are we going to do?" Willow asked. 

"We're going to play paintball," he answered. 

"But they'll recognize you!" 

"Under this?" he said, pointing to the mask in Willow's hand. 

"Well, no, I guess not," she said. 

"Right then," Spike said. "Why don't you go help your chums get their gear so I can get to my box. I'll move it somewhere else." 

"Are you sure?" Willow asked. "We could just leave." 

"And miss a chance to hunt the Slayers and the whelp?" he answered with a grin. "I think not." 

She grinned back. "You know, that sounds like fun. Too bad we can't just do a smaller group." 

"Can't we?" 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXVII - Red Lady & The Tramp

 

 

Willow told each of the other eight paintball friends that Spike had arranged for a private game, including Buffy, Xander and Faith. Thirteen players all together. The redhead didn't know if that was a bad omen or not. 

"I can't believe Tramp arranged this for us," Jamie said, bouncing on her toes. 

"Where is that dog, anyhow?" Kurt asked. The group, minus Spike, was gathered around ‘their' table, waiting for the private game to start. Buffy, Faith and Xander were all equipped, and Duffy and Deuce were giving out pointers. 

"Tramp?" Buffy said. "Who's Tramp?" 

"Sp-" Matt began. 

"Another friend," Willow interrupted Matt. "You guys don't know him. Nope. Never met." She looked over at Kurt. "He had to...do...stuff. But he's playing." 

"Private group! Game!" a referee called. 

"That be us," Nel said, standing. 

"This is gonna kick," Faith said, running her fingers over the barrel of the semi-automatic paintball gun. 

"I think Faith's a little excited," Buffy whispered to Willow as the group walked out of the shelter towards the ref. 

"Hey Lady," Schu said to Willow. He pointed to where half the group had already gathered. "Looks like Tramp is trying to get your attention." 

Indeed, Spike, already wearing his unique, all-black mask over his old, beat-up, Marlboro cap, was gesturing her to join him. "Thanks," she said. "Excuse me, guys." She walked away from them towards Spike. 

"Lady? Tramp?" Xander said, watching Willow. 

"That's their nicks," Jamie explained. "Red Lady and the Tramp. Although Tramp's been Tramp since he started playing. He's got a Disney fetish." 

"Kurt's the one who started calling Will ‘Red Lady' as a joke, and it stuck," Schu said. "But their nicks aren't as good as Squirrel Girl and Super-Monkey." He winked at his wife, then slid the mask over his face. 

Jamie laughed and donned her own mask. Buffy, Xander and Faith exchanged confused looks, then followed suit. 

"Luke, I am your father," Xander said, breathing heavily behind the mask. 

"Like we didn't see that coming, Xand," Buffy teased. 

"First game is Liquid Boundaries," the ref announced once they were inside the playing field. "Six of you will start touching this spool," he hit the large, white, old construction wiring spool, "and seven will start at that one. You'll have five seconds to get away after I say go before you get shot. Boundaries are to the back walls of buildings two and three. After five minutes, I will blow the whistle once, and the boundaries will become the inner courtyard. Any questions?" 

"No," chorused the regular players. Buffy, Faith and Xander looked at each other through their masks and shrugged. 

"Those six that are staying here," the ref said. "Take these red armbands. The rest, go to the other spool." 

"Hey guys," Willow said, finding her friends. She had a red armband on. "You're on the other side." 

"We're not on the same team?" Buffy asked. 

"Nope," she shook her head. They couldn't see the huge grin on her face under the mask. 

"How will we know not to shoot you?" Xander said. 

"Xander, you're suppose to fire at me," Willow told him. "And anyone on the red team. But don't worry, you'll be hit looong before you even get a shot off." With that, she turned and literally strutted away. 

"Red's a little cocky, ain't she?" Faith commented as the trio crossed the small courtyard. "I think she's going to be my first kill." 

She found out she was very wrong. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXVIII - _Friends_ , Remember?

 

 

"Oh goddess, you should have seen the looks on their faces!" Willow said, flopping down on the bench next to Spike. "I think they've played a total of five minutes in six games!" 

"You are a witch," Spike told her, tapping her nose. In his other hand, he was holding his place in a book with his finger. Since he had nothing better to do between games, he figured he'd practice and earn some brownie points with Willow. 

"Yup," she agreed. She gestured to the book. "Enjoying yourself?" 

"I'd rather be with you," he replied, then looked away, slightly embarrassed. 

Willow blushed. "I...I'd rather be with you, t-too," she stammered. 

Spike reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Their eyes met and held, and he slowly ran his hand around the back of her head as he leaned closer. 

"Private group! Game!" 

They both sprang back in shock at the referee's loud voice close to where they were sitting. Flustered, Willow stood and gestured helplessly. "Game. Gotta go. Play. The Game. Paintball. Yeah. Game." She turned and hurried away. 

"Way to go, you bloody pillock," Spike cursed to himself. " _Friends_ , remember? Don't. Fuck. This. Up." He scowled, disgusted at himself. "Not after she wanted to keep your worthless arse around despite what you are." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXIX - Dwindling Days

 

 

Luckily, the tension between the two friends didn't last long. One really bad joke later, and they were back to their normal selves, the almost-kiss behind them, but not forgotten. As the days quickly passed and the time before Willow left for school dwindled, both felt as though they were slowly being ripped in two on the inside. Their surprise friendship was nearing a hard turning- point, and neither want to deal with it. So they acted as though nothing was going to change. 

"I can't believe you did that," Willow said, falling back on her bed, phone at her ear, two days before she was due to leave. 

"I'm not to bloody tickled about it either, kitten," Spike replied on the other end of the line. "Now are you going to help me? Or will you leave a poor, helpless bloke to fend for himself?" 

"I don't know, Sexy Knickers," she hedged. "That's asking a lot." 

"I don't beg," he told her. He paused, then, "Please help?" 

Willow giggled. "I'll be over in ten." 

Arriving at Spike's house ten minutes later to the second, she entered the front door and burst out laughing. 

"Something funny, pet?" Spike asked, folding his arms across his chest. 

"You-you-," she gasped between laughs. "Your face..." 

Spike scowled at her and wiped his face with the back of his hand, only to smear the light blue paint more over his features. His clothing was spattered and stained with the same color, and he had streaks of it in his hair from where he ran his fingers through it. 

"Oh goddess," Willow giggled. "What am I going to do with you?" 

"Help me finish," he growled, stalking back into the covered living room. He had been bored, as usual, and had found cans of paint in the basement that morning. Deciding that the color would look good in the living room, he covered the furniture and began to paint. An hour later, he was bored out of his mind again, only now he had a partially painted living room, which looked exceedingly ridiculous. So he called Willow. 

"Spike, we are going to have to find you a hobby," she told him as she dropped her bag and followed him into the room. "Something that doesn't involve redecorating." 

"Just shut up and help," he muttered, returning to work. 

She giggled again at his pouty-attitude, picked up a brush, and helped. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXX - Aches & Pains

 

 

"Cor, everything hurts," Spike grumbled, flopping down face-first on Willow's bed, so his feet were hanging off one side and his head off the other. 

"You're a vampire, you're not suppose to hurt after manual labor," Willow told him, climbing up onto the bed and straddling his waist. She began to knead the muscles in his bare back. 

"Tell that to my bleedin' body," he said, closing his eyes. 

"I guess we didn't have to paint the foyer, hallway and the spare bedroom, too," she said. "Maybe that was a bit overkill." 

"You think?" he muttered. 

"Oh, hey, after I rub your poor, achy back, do you want to see movie?" she asked. " _Tarzan_  is playing at nine." 

"Really?" Spike said in an excited voice. 

"Yes, Walt, really," Willow replied with a giggle. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXXI - Silhouettes

 

 

Outside Willow's bedroom doors, Buffy's eyes were huge. She had come over to see if Willow wanted to go out, but instead she found the redhead was already involved in something else entirely. For on the thin, white curtains, the Slayer could see the silhouette of Willow rocking back and forth on someone.

"Oh my god," Buffy gasped. "Willow is carpe-ing someone!" 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXXII - In My Heart

 

 

"That was bloody awesome!" Spike exclaimed as he and Willow left the theater. He grabbed her hand and spun her in a circle, then bounced like a little kid as they headed back to the redhead's house. "Can we go see it again?" 

Willow laughed. "I think someone liked the movie." 

"Cor, yeah," he agreed, grinning unabashedly. "The past few Disney pictures have been pretty awful. Although  _Hercules_  had some funny things, but this..." 

"Was bloody awesome, I heard," she smirked. They walked hand-in-hand in silence for a few minutes, with Spike's thoughts off in Disney heaven and hers about the happy vampire next to her. She found it both humorous and touching that he could get so excited over a simple cartoon. **It shows how big of a heart he has,** she thought. 

"‘Go stop your cryin', it'll be alright. Just take my hand hold it tight. I will protect you from all around you, I will be here. Don't you cry.'" 

Willow looked over at him as he began to sing, his low, quiet voice easily bringing forth the words to the song he'd only heard once during the movie. They'd been playing it on the radio, but she knew he didn't listen to that type of station. It amazed her that he picked it up so fast. 

"‘For so small, you seem so strong. My arms will hold you keep you safe and warm. This bond between us can't be broken, I will be here don't you cry. Cause you'll be in my heart. Yes you'll be in my heart. From this day on, now and forever long. You'll be in my heart. No matter what they say. You'll be in my heart, always,'" he sang, his hand unconsciously tightening around Willow's 

"‘Why can't they understand the way we feel. They just don't trust what they can't explain. I know we're different but deep inside we're not that different at all. And you'll be in my heart. Yes you'll be in my heart. From this day on, now and forever long. Don't listen to them, cause what do they know? They'll see in time, I know. When destiny calls you, you must be strong. I may not be with you but you've got to hold on. They'll see in time, I know. We'll show them together.'" 

As Willow listened to the words, she realized they mimicked her and Spike's friendship. Her friends would never understand how she could be friends with him, how human he was despite the demon inhabiting him. And he was in her heart, and he would always be there. No matter how far away she moved or where life took her, he would always be there. 

"‘Because you'll be in my heart. Believe me, you'll be in my heart. I'll be there from this day on, Now and forever long. Oooo, you'll be in my heart, you'll be here in my heart. No matter what they say, you'll be in my heart. I'll be there always, always. I'll be with you. I'll be there for you always, always and always. Just look over your shoulder. Just look over your shoulder. Just look over your shoulder. I'll be there always.'" 

Spike quietly ended the song, memorized in an instant because of his love for Disney movies. But in this case, the words seemed to mean more than the scene that played when the lyrics were sang. He glanced over at the redhead beside him and felt his throat constrict. She was physically leaving him the morning after tomorrow, but she would never leave his heart. 

She raised her head and met his eyes. He squeezed her hand and they exchanged small smiles, then they continued in silence the rest of the way to her home. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXXII - Goodnight

 

 

They stood on her small balcony, neither one wanting to say goodnight. However, Spike knew she needed to pack, and therefore needed to get some rest. But he really didn't want to leave. 

"Well...," Willow trailed off, glancing up at him, then back off into the night. 

"Yeah," he responded. He lifted their still-clasped hands and placed a light kiss on the back of hers. "I'd best get going, kitten. You have a lot to do tomorrow." 

"I know," she sighed. "I don't want to go." 

"Yes, you do," he said, smiling at her. 

"Yeah, I do," she repeated, returning the smile. 

"I know you'll want to spend time with your mates tomorrow," Spike said. "But I'm bleedin' selfish and want to see you, too." He glanced out onto the quiet street. "Can I pick you up at ten?" 

"I'll be here," Willow replied. 

"Right then," he said, dropping her hand after a final squeeze. He hopped over the railing instead of using the break, then turned and smiled at her from the other side. "Goodnight, luv." 

"‘Night, Spike," she said. "I'll see you at ten." 

He leaned forward and tapped the end of her nose and said, "On the nose." With a wink, he turned and sauntered off into the night. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXXIII - You Saw Me What?

 

 

"Hi Buffy," Willow said, opening her front door wider to let the Slayer in. "Welcome to the war-zone."

"Having fun packing?" Buffy asked, following Willow to her bedroom. 

"I don't know," the hacker replied. "I keep changing my mind about what to take. I mean, I know I'm only two hours away and can easily come back to get stuff, but I'd rather have it when I need it, know what I mean?" 

"Not a clue," Buffy answered, looking around the messy bedroom. "I'm not going away." 

"Oh, Buffy," Willow sighed sadly. "I'm sorry." 

Buffy shrugged. "No biggie. I've dealt." She picked up a stack of videos and looked through them. "Plus, knowing you're down there keeping an eye on Angel makes me happy." 

"I'll keep him in line," Willow grinned. She glanced at her mostly empty trunk, then around her room. "So, wanna help me pack?" 

"Actually, I wanted to know who you were having fun of the naughty kind last night," the Slayer said casually. 

Willow frowned in confusion. "What?" 

"I stopped by last night to see if you wanted to go out, and I distinctly saw you...," she wiggled her eyebrows, "...enjoying yourself." 

"I don't understand," Willow said. "You saw me what?" 

"Having sex, Wills," Buffy said, exasperated. "S-E-X. That activity where his thang fits in your thang..." 

"Buffy!" Willow gasped, blushing furiously. 

"I know, sounds Faith, but we've been hanging out lately since you've been busy with Bil-" Buffy stopped, her eyes widening. "You did it with Billy!" 

"No!" Willow exclaimed. "I didn't have...you know...with B-Billy or-or anyone. Not even close. I'm so far from...that thing...I might as well be a-asexual." She nervously tucked and untucked her hair from behind her ears, then suddenly stared at Buffy. "Why do you think I did it?" 

"I saw you last night..." 

"How? Where?" 

"Here in your room," Buffy answered. "I came to the doors," she gestured to the french doors, "and saw you were doing something that I guess you weren't doing." The Slayer frowned. "What were you doing?" 

"Oh!" Willow said. "Backrub. I was giving S-Billy a backrub. We painted. A lot. Wait, you mean you saw him?" The last few words barely squeaked out. 

"No," she replied. "I saw your shadow on the curtains." 

Willow slumped in obvious relief. "Good...I mean, that you were wrong about...you know..." 

Buffy grinned. "Never mind, Wills. So, want so help?" 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXXV - Rain

 

 

After she'd finally gotten everything packed into one trunk, one suitcase, her laptop case and her backpack, Willow spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening with Buffy, Xander and Faith. They'd stopped by the library and had surprised the redhead with an impromptu Bon Voyage party, complete with cake and little party hats. Giles had even donned one just for her. 

At nine-thirty, she was escorted home under a barrage of ‘Ooh, Billy' and other teasing remarks, and left them with the promise they'd see her at the airport the next morning. Instead of driving down, her parents had bought her a plane ticket, because they were taking a flight out of Sunnydale that same morning. Angel had promised to arrange for her to be picked up and taken to the campus when she got to LA. 

Willow had no clue what she and Spike were going to do, so she dressed in a pair of jeans and a t- shirt because of the cool weather, despite it being August. At ten o'clock, on the nose, he tapped on her french doors. "Hi," she greeted with a large smile upon opening them. 

"Hello, kitten," Spike said, dressed similarly in jeans and a t-shirt. He held out his hand. "Ready to go?" 

She nodded and took his hand, closing the door behind her. They walked in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the cool night air. She noticed where they were heading and asked, "We're going to the park?" 

"Yes," he replied. "That ok?" 

"Sure," she answered. "I'm all packed." 

"How many bags do you have? Twenty?" Spike grinned at her. 

"Just four," Willow said, wrinkling her nose at him. "I have to fly, you know."

"Fly?" he asked. "Last time I checked, LA was only two hours away, luv." 

"Mom and Dad," she replied, as if that answered everything. "Anyway, I'm suppose to be there by one for my first orientation do-hickey. My flight leaves at nine so I can get there early enough to find my room and stuff." 

They arrived at the deserted park and Spike hopped up to walk along a low beam as he lead her towards the swings. "You'll have to give me your number as soon as you know it." 

"I will," she said, taking a seat on the swing and pushing lightly on her toes. 

Spike moved behind her and started to push. "I was wondering, kitten...," he trailed off, the squeak of the swing chains becoming the only noise in the park. 

After a few moments, she prompted, "You were wondering?" 

Whatever Spike was going to say was drowned out in a loud clap of thunder. Both of them were startled, the vampire grabbing her shoulders reflexively, pulling her back against him on the swing. They both looked up at the cloudy sky just in time for it to burst into rain, sending a deluge down upon the duo. 

With a squeal, Willow got to her feet, holding an arm above her head as Spike grabbed her hand and began running towards a small shelter. Moments before they reached it, they both slipped in the mud, falling to the ground heavily. 

They scrambled forward on their knees, laughing as they got under cover, their clothes and hands full of mud. Willow pushed her drenched hair back off of her face, coating it and her forehead in the dark, wet dirt as she grinned at him. "It's raining." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXXVI - Her Favorite Scene

 

 

"Now what?" Willow asked a few minutes of non-stop, heavy rain later. She was sitting right beside Spike, their crossed knees touching, watching the crazy weather. She raised her dirty palm and looked at it. 

"We wait," he replied, reaching out to snag her hand. He used his other hand to tickle her palm lightly. 

"Stop that," she said, trying to snatch it away from him. 

"Stop what?" he asked, grinning devilishly at her. 

"Stop _that_ ," Willow repeated, getting her hand away. She looked at her palm again, as well as the other one, and frowned. "Yuck, my hands are dirty."

It was like a picture suddenly snapped into focus. Spike's thoughts immediately lit upon information he had filed away for future use. He would swear his heart was pounding in his chest as he slowly reached out and laid his hand over hers, palm up. "My hands are dirty, too," he said, swallowing heavily. He then continued, wondering if he was out of his mind, "What are you afraid of?" 

Willow looked at him, frowning in confusion. "Afraid?" 

Spike lifted his hand and cupped the bottom of her chin. Then he gently rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. "You're trembling." 

"I'm not trembling," she said, her brows knitted together even though her heart began to race from his actions. 

He couldn't help the slight curling of his lips as she unknowingly played the scene. However, his next words would sink in and she would know exactly what he was doing. "You like me because I'm a scoundrel," he said, staring into her eyes. "There aren't enough scoundrels in your life." 

Willow's breath caught, her eyes widening. **Oh goddess, oh goddess,** she thought. Licking her lips, she watched as his gaze darted down to them, then back up to her eyes. In a whisper, she continued the lines, knowing what was going to happen if she did. "I happen to like nice men." 

Spike's eyes darkened as he slowly leaned towards her. An inch away from her mouth, he said quietly, "I'm nice men." 

"No, you're not," Willow whispered, her eyes falling shut. "You're-" 

Exactly as in her favorite scene of the _Star Wars_  trilogy, he cut her off by capturing her mouth in a kiss. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXXVII - The Kiss

 

 

The kiss was tentative and shy, just like a first kiss should be. Spike's lips brushed over Willow's, as if they weren't suppose to be kissing, and she felt butterflies start to flutter around in her stomach. She began to kiss him back, her mouth equally as uncertain as his own. 

Spike felt like his heart would explode when she returned the kiss. The hand cupping her chin slid along her jawline to her hair. He tangled his fingers in the damp, red tresses, angling his head so he could deepen the kiss. He'd been wanting to do this all summer and, now that he finally was, he wondered what took him so long. 

If Willow had known the feelings that were being evoked by his mouth against hers, she would have kissed him well back in the beginning of the summer. The things she felt were nothing like what she had felt when Oz kissed her, or Xander. She felt as though her insides were burning and melting all at once, her heart was hammering in her chest, her breathing was in short, trembling bursts. 

He was tasting sunlight. His lips tingled, his body burned, as the kiss continued. He never, ever, wanted it to end. 

But, eventually, it had to, and he reluctantly dragged his mouth from hers. He pulled away from her to look down into her eyes as they fluttered open. "Was that ok?" Spike asked quietly and with some uncertainty. 

"It was perfect," Willow breathed. Then she blurted, "I can't believe you remembered." 

Spike chuckled, releasing her completely. "I remember every moment spent with you, kitten," he said, then looked out of the shelter. "Rain's stopped." 

Willow slowly turned her head and looked outside. "Looks like it." 

He stood and offered her his hand. "Come on, let's get you home before it starts again." 

Accepting it, she stood and the two walked silently out of the shelter and into the wet night. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXXVIII - I Guess This Is Goodbye

 

 

"Do you want to come in?" Willow asked as they stepped onto her small balcony. 

"I'd best not," Spike replied, dropping the hand he held the entire way back. "Little witches need their beauty rest." Plus, if he did go inside, he'd want to do what the bedroom was properly used for, and it was just not the time for that. He knew it and he knew she did, too. 

"Then I guess this is goodbye," she said, sadly. 

"For now," he said. "I'll see you soon enough." 

Willow raised her eyes to his, quashing down her tears. She was going to miss him. "Will you come visit?" 

"Of course," he replied immediately. 

"‘K," she said. She looked down shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

They both heard the door to Willow's bedroom open and then her mom's voice. "Willow, is that you?" 

Willow turned around and opened her french door. "Yeah, mom. I was just getting some air," she said, sticking her head in. 

"You should really get some sleep, honey," Sheila said. 

"I will," she replied. Her mom nodded and left the bedroom. Willow turned back to Spike, only to see him several steps away, on the other side of the railing. "Spike?" 

"You'd better go, kitten," Spike said. 

Willow nodded. "I'll call you when I get there and know my room number and...I'll call you," she said. 

"I'll be waiting," he replied. He gave her a small smile, despite the feelings churning inside of him, then turned and walked away from the best thing in his life. 

"Goodbye, Spike," Willow whispered to his retreating form. Then she turned in the opposite direction and entered her house, closing the door behind her. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

LXXXIX - Towards The Future

 

 

Willow stood staring at herself in the mirror. "You can do this," she told her reflection. "It's time to start a new chapter in Willow Rosenberg's life." 

"Honey, time to go!" her mom called. 

She gave herself a wane smile. "Time to go." Grabbing her backpack, she gave her bedroom one final look, then left the room. 

Half-an-hour later, she kissed her parents before they headed off to catch their own flight at the Sunnydale Commuter Airport. Her luggage had already been taken behind the counter, disappearing on a conveyor belt. She wore her backpack and carried her laptop case over one shoulder, weaving through the crowd of early morning flyers towards her terminal. 

"Look who decided to show up," Xander said in lieu of greeting when she got to the gate. Buffy, Faith and Giles were there, as well, to give her a proper send-off. 

"Hey guys," Willow said. "I guess this is it. I'm college bound. Off to college. The big U. Higher learning, here I come." 

"We'll miss you, Wills," Buffy told her. 

"Yeah, I'm gonna have to start doin' research now that you're blowin' Sunnydale," Faith said. "That sucks."

"What I think Faith is attempting to say, your a-assistance has been invaluable," Giles said. "And we shall all miss you." 

"Flight one-fifteen to Los Angeles now boarding at gate B-2," a voice came over the loudspeaker. "Flight one-fifteen to Los Angeles now boarding at gate B-2." 

"That's me," Willow said. She hugged each of her friends, then gave them a fake smile. "Well, um, bye." 

She turned and made her way to the open doors that led down to the plane with a chorus of goodbyes, pulling her ticket out of the front pocket of her red overalls. She stopped in line, forcing herself not to look back. The person before her handed the attendant his ticket, and she gave up and turned around. Her eyes lit on her friends standing in a small knot, and they waved at her, with Giles giving her a smile. 

Then she saw him. 

It was just chance that she had looked past her friends and saw him standing there in front of a bright blue door with an exit sign over it, well away from the sunlight streaming through the terminal windows. He was dressed in the first outfit he'd tried on at the mall in what seemed so long ago -- tan khakis and a long-sleeved, navy t-shirt with a blue on white stripe across the chest. He had the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and was wearing the familiar, old Dodgers cap backwards on his head. 

Without thought about how ridiculous she looked or that her friends were standing there, Willow ran over to him and threw her arms around him. "You're here! Why are you here? It's too dangerous! Goddess, have you lost your mind?" 

Spike chuckled, holding the redhead close. "I'll miss you, too." 

"Last call for flight one-fifteen to Los Angeles, boarding at gate B-2," the voice repeated over the speaker. "Last call..." 

"I gotta go," Willow said, looking up at him. 

"I know," Spike replied. He met her eyes, then bent and placed a soft kiss on her lips. "Be safe, kitten." 

"I'll miss you," she said, stepping away from him. 

He reached out and brushed a stray hair behind her ear. "Goodbye." 

"Bye," she replied. As she turned to go, she felt something plunked on her head. Looking up, she saw the bill of the baseball cap. She looked over her shoulder at him at the same time he gave her a slight push. "Thanks, Sexy Knickers."

Spike rolled his eyes. "You'd better go, pet, before I have to kill you for that." 

Willow giggled, then faced forward and headed back towards the gate, only to be greeted by the wide-eyed stares of her friends. Not stopping, she grinned and said as she passed, "Bye guys. Oh, and be nice to Billy, will ya?" 

At the gate entrance, she turned and waved, then headed down the ramp towards her future. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

XC - Epilogue

 

 

Spike watched as Willow disappeared past the doors, then turned his attention to the four staring at him. He sent them a cocky grin, lifted his fingers and gave them a mocking wave. Then he turned and went through the stairwell door, singing, "One jump ahead of the slowpokes, one skip ahead of my doom, next time gonna keep my nom de plume..." 

 

 

 

##  **The End**


End file.
